The Trial: Journey's End (Book III of God Rising)
by atheistbasementdragon
Summary: (God Rising Author Universe) Two years have passed, and Neia is happy. But the past comes knocking when the investigation in Wheaton is completed, and Neia is arrested for war crimes. So the last battle of the Black Paladin begins, and friends become foes as Neia Baraja faces off against the most dangerous enemy of all. Her life. A reckoning must be had, and there is no escape
1. Reckoning

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 1: Reckoning

_...Papal Estate...Two Years After the Synod..._

Neia savored the warmth of her wife's touch when she woke up, she let her hands drift over the smooth skin of that lovely naked body, the feel of the soft breasts pressed into her side, as Skana had fallen asleep entwined in Neia's embrace. Even their legs had become entwined, a tangle that spoke of the passionate evening they had so recently enjoyed. She moved her arms up to wrap them slowly around Skana's head, and lean herself partially over, as if to press her cheek to the top of her auburn hair.

"So... this is happiness." She said to herself in a quiet voice so that she would not awaken the warrior woman whom she loved.

"Yeah, it is." Skana murmured and smacked her lips, she stretched out and let out a yawn on the enormous bed as the light began to stream through the windows with the rising sun.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" Neia asked gently.

"You did." Skana said not even slightly crossly as she slowly sat up, then reached over and pulled on a rope that would alert the servant on duty that the mistresses of the house were awake.

"Sorry..." Neia said sheepishly as they moved to opposite sides of the bed to get out.

"No, it's cute, and you slept through the night again... are the nightmares...?" Skana lowered her gaze momentarily.

"Gone?" Neia finished the sentence. "I didn't have one last night but... they're not gone forever, I don't think... but every night free of them is a good one. I have to be happy with small victories, you know." She reached over for a robe and drew it on only a little slower than her wife.

"I did... a lot wrong, it feels strange to have even a moment of joy after sending so many to their deaths, by my orders or by my sword or my bow... I... I became like her, or close. So I have... have felt afraid for a long time it seems, that my sins would one day come back to me, and that the price would be too great for me to bear." Neia whimpered and her lip began to tremble.

Skana strode swiftly over the floor as if going forth to vanquish an enemy, but she embraced her wife and held her close, pulling Neia into her chest and caressing the back of her head, "I'm sorry I didn't... I didn't mean to bring up... no, listen, you are not that monster... you aren't, no matter what anyone says, I believe you saved lives, you're my hero, like the day at the wall... everything you ever did... even the things you hated, you did for the happiness this peace has given us. You paid a terrible price already... How much more can the world do to you?"

A knock on the door interrupted them, and Skana's eye swept over the well appointed bedchamber to the ornate, dark colored door. "Come." She said calmly.

An elf maid opened the door. "My ladies?" She asked with a joyful smile on her face. She wore a classic maid outfit designed in the style of Nazarick, with black and white frills, an apron with a set of suitable pockets, and a small white cap. "What would you like, bath or breakfast or breakfast in the bath?"

"Bath first, thank you Enlaith, we'll come down for breakfast after, so just have that drawn and make ready with our clothing. I believe we'll go out today. Perhaps have a picnic." Skana said with a pleasant smile on her face.

"As my ladies wish." She said and bobbed at the knees before removing herself and closing the door.

Skana drew Neia's body away from her and she lifted her face at the chin so that they met one another's gazes, "Listen to me, whatever happened in Wheaton, whatever you did at Kami Miyako, whatever happened with the Overseers and the Breakers... all those things were a long time coming to that country. Wars have casualties, and even in a bad place, not everybody that dies, deserves to... but you can't do anything for the dead, and as far as I'm concerned, you've suffered enough. Besides..." Skana said as she moved her hands to cup Neia's face, "you have an obligation to more than just me to make this the best life and best world possible. You have an obligation to the both of us."

Neia looked at her in befuddlement. "You mean to you and I?" She asked. Skana began a throaty laugh and took her wife's right hand at the wrist, and drew it up to where Skana's heart was beating, and then slowly she brought it down, over the center of her body, and turned Neia's palm so that it was lying flat over her belly. "No... to 'us' as in you have an obligation to our first child."

Neia looked at her, stunned, eyes wide, mouth open, for just a moment, than she shrieked with the joy of a girl being given the finest gift on earth, and she yanked Skana's powerful body into an embrace that, had it been to another of lesser strength, might have cracked bones. As it was, it drew a hardy 'oof' from Skana's lips.

Neia immediately let go and went briefly pale, "Did I hurt you, oh god no tell me I didn't hurt you or... the baby..."

Skana shook her head and put her fingers to Neia's lips, "It's alright, I'm a tough one, you're not going to break Skana the Bold that easily!" Neia relaxed and color began to return to her face.

"Which body father did you choose, you had it narrowed down to three as I recall." Neia asked curiously, "Also... he's... fine with... you know? Us?"

"For that I chose one of the heroes of Queen Zesshi's armies, he was planning to travel abroad as one of the priests of the faith, there shouldn't be any problems of jealousy." Skana reassured her wife with the confidence in her voice as much as with the information she'd conveyed.

"I guess that means I get to have the next one then. Perhaps I should approach Chindai, his wives are hard bargainers but... frankly happy as they seemed, he must do something right." Neia winked at the ribald humor, but Skana only rolled her eyes.

"My wife, I love you, but you are absolutely the second worst joke teller in the entire Sorcerous Empire." Skana said sardonically.

"Second worst?" Neia asked, then paused, "Oh, yes, yes much as I adore him... father is not the god of joke telling, I don't know anyone who worships him in that aspect, and if they had to, then the entire religion would die, and definitely not from laughter."

Skana nodded in firm agreement, "Absolutely right."

"That... was a joke." Neia said gently.

"It's only funny if you're exaggerating." Skana replied pointedly and folded her arms in front of her, as if daring Neia to disagree.

Neia deflated visibly, slumping slightly, "Oh alright, fair enough." She then perked up and grabbed Skana's hands, "But who cares about that?! We're going to be parents!" She shouted joyfully and bounced up and down on her heels.

Skana let the smile form on her face and grow from ear to ear as Neia rushed out the door and flung herself to the rail, her hands gripped the smooth alabaster and she leaned far over the side, "My wife's pregnant! We're going to be parents! Break out the wine! Break out the spirits! Break out the beer! I have to tell father! Nobody works today!"

Cheers from the staff of their estate were followed by questions from those who heard the shouts, which were in turn followed by more cheers, and within a span of minutes the butlers, maids, footmen, groomsmen, and all the other staff of the Papal manor were toasting, cheering, and celebrating the news. The clink of glasses, the popping of corks, and the pouring of countless libations filled the air from one end of the great estate to the other, as elves who served the pair threatened to outdo dwarven enthusiasm for alcohol.

"This... has got to be the happiest day of my life." Neia said with an enormous smile on her face. "What could possibly ruin it?"

Skana grinned like an imp and approached where Neia shouted, and going to where Neia stood with small steps that were ages separated from the urgency of the battlefields of the wars that consumed their lives, and wrapped her arms around Neia's body, bringing her hands up to her shoulders, she pulled the leaning woman upright and laid her face flat against Neia's neck, "Don't fall, my love, strong as you are, I don't want to hear a 'thunk' out of you hitting the floor."

Neia let herself be pulled upright and laughed with the kind of unrestrained joy that Skana had heard only a few times in their short lives together, their breathing synced up together, and peace reigned over their lives. "Fall?" Neia asked softly as she brought her left hand up to stroke Skana's hair and cheek. "I can't fall, I feel like I could fly."

It was just as she'd spoken, standing there on the long open hall overlooking the entry to the estate with her wife, that a great pounding resounded that could only come from a powerful figure knocking. Their reverie was abruptly cut off by the sound.

"Were you expecting someone?" Neia asked as a sudden and unexplained moment of anxiety struck, she felt her heart seize in her breast.

Skana's arms tensed as she sensed the change in her wife. "No... no one." A servant approached from the room beneath and went to the door with the long professional stride of an experienced butler.

His elven ears twitched and he looked up at the mistresses of the house at the rail above, he saw the anxious look on their faces and his previous happiness melted away from his face like wax from a burning candle.

He slowly reached for the door, and held his grip on it as he looked up at them for approval, the knock came again. Neia nodded reluctantly, and the door opened.

As it opened, daylight flooded into the room, and there stood a demoness that the couple knew very well. She was in her human shape, with long blonde hair hanging down to her waist, her customary riding outfit of brown pants, black boots, and a pine green shirt emblazoned with the official emblem of the Sorcerous Empire over her heart. Her gray eyes however, did not have their bounce or sparkle, instead, she had her shoulders stooped.

Behind her, a figure in full armor loomed and held a large hammer over her shoulder, even without seeing her face, both Neia and Skana knew who it was.

"Vanysa! Gagaran! Come in! I have wonderful news!" Neia shouted happily as she wrestled back the anxiety that was still growing in her heart, "Skana and I are going to have a child! We have to celebrate!"

Her face instantly fell when she saw the response. Gagaran stepped back from the door as if struck, and Vanysa's dull eyes welled up. "Neia... I... needja ta come with me."

Neia froze, and Skana tensed her grip so much that Neia couldn't have moved if she'd wanted to.

The elf servant, sensing the tension, froze as well, he barred the way through the door, and the tension rose several notches.

"What... why?" Neia asked hesitantly her hands going to the rail and holding it for strength.

"Neia, ahm sorry... but'cher under arrest!" Vanysa said so fast that for a moment, people traded looks, unsure they had understood her.

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite get that." Neia said in a quivering voice as her hands held the rail and clenched tightly enough that it started to crack.

"Neia, don't make this any harder than it has tah be... please... me 'an Gagaran're here ta take yah in. Please... jus... jus come with us quiet like." Vanysa's voice cracked, and even from where she stood, Skana could see the madness growing in Vanysa's eyes.

"On what charge?!" The elf butler demanded with a snarl as he bared his teeth and his hand gripped tighter onto the door.

"War crimes." Gagaran said bluntly, "For her actions in and around Wheaton." The hammer wielding woman was tense, stiff, and unhappiness radiated off of her.

"You will not lay a hand on her! I won't allow it! You will not take her! you will not touch her! Get out! Get out! Get ooooout!" The butler shouted in a furious rage as his savior was threatened, he tried to shut the door, only for Gagaran's meaty hand to shoot out and stop it cold.

"Help!" He shouted as loud as he could, his earlier protests had gotten attention, but as he continued... "The pope is in danger! They're going to take her! Stop them! Stoooop them!" The sound of stomping feet echoed throughout the manner and it yanked the stunned couple out of their disbelieving silence.

"Hold!" Neia shouted as she called on the power of her voice. "I'm... coming down."

"Neia... please... don't." Skana whimpered and clung to her arm as Neia stepped away, leaving handprints in the rail that would never come away.

Neia's back stiffened, and despite her small size, she seemed impossibly tall, Skana's mind flew back to the day she'd fallen in love with the heroic archer, the day on the wall, the day she died and her legend began. Neia looked over the rail, "This is father's will, isn't it?" She asked.

Vanysa bit her lip, "Don make me sayit!"

Gagran grunted uncomfortably, "The investigation was completed, people were asking questions about why you never answered for anything. You brought this on yourself."

"I assume you told them everything you remember?" Neia asked quietly.

"I did." Gagaran replied, lifting her chin defiantly as if daring her to criticize her for it.

"Good. I'm glad you kept your justice." Neia said sadly as she lowered her gaze, and walked away from Skana, down the stairs, and through a knot of elven servants that had come with everything from rolling pins to kitchen knives to keep her from being taken. Gagaran flinched with Neia's praise, her eyes widened in abject disbelief.

"It's alright." Neia said softly, putting a low reverberation of ease into her voice, calming their spirits little by little as she held up her hands.

Skana stood frozen at the rail, unable to move, unable to comprehend what was happening. 'No! No! Not again! Not again! Please no... don't take her, we just started... just began to get her back... I can't... Move Skana! Move! They're going to take her! Move your damn legs!' But she could not move. She could only blink in disbelief as Neia stood below near the door.

"If it is father's will, it is just, but... why both of you? Why did he not simply summon me?" Neia asked hesitantly as she approached and placed a hand on the quivering butler's shoulder.

"Because it couldn't be seen that he was showing you favor. He is a just lord, and any appearance of favoritism on his part would taint the outcome." Gagaran said with admiration as she spoke of the Sorcerer King, "And... it was possible your servants or... your wife, might lose control and do something... unfortunate. This is for everyone's safety. Now... please. Come with us."

Neia's eyes narrowed, 'No... she's not lying. Even if she were, Vanysa... she wouldn't, she took me to get help.'

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Neia craned her neck to look up at the giant woman and spoke only through tightly clenched teeth.

"I thought I would, I really did... but no I don't. Now are you going to come along or not?" Gagaran asked with resignation as she hefted her hammer.

"Jus come along, 'kay? Get this o'er with." Vanysa held out her pale hand and it slowly turned golden as her demon nature took hold.

Neia looked over her shoulder to the head butler. "Look after my wife, and our child, while I'm gone. I'm entrusting them to you." His eyes welled up, but he gave a subtle nod.

"Can we do without chains? I promise not to make a fuss." Neia asked hopefully.

Vanysa and Gagaran traded a look. "Ah didnae bring any, ah knew yah'd be good. Now c'mon, the carriage is waiting." Vanysa spoke quietly, without the enthusiasm her voice usually carried.

"Where are we going?" Neia asked, "To see father?"

Gagaran shook her head. "No, the capital of the Minotaur Kingdom." The door shut behind them as they walked, flanking the warrior pope.

Neia looked up at the sky and around at the grounds of her papal residence. The great high hedges that flanked the outskirts, and the garden and streams within that crisscrossed the place, statues ringed the massive complex. "Gascon, Gilcrest, Tiksin, Taskaros and Taskarosi, Moira, Petyr, Segunta..." She pointed from one statue to the next on a long path that ran beside the manor as she looked back at it.

"What?" Gagaran asked as she looked down at her charge.

"Heroes, warriors from the wars and before, some living, some dead, their statues though, from the men and women I knew, they're idealized versions of what they looked like. I walked the path beside those statues many times, I know the names of all of them, even the ones I never met. I've often felt like they were watching me as I passed under them." Neia said with a self deprecating smile. "It's a little humbling, really."

"What's your point?" Gagaran asked, more than a little lost, if Neia were to judge by her cockeyed look.

"I was just thinking, if I don't come back here, I wanted to remember all that, and then I wondered, after all is settled, how will I be portrayed? Silly thing to worry about perhaps, but... finding out that we were going to have a child, I wonder what they'd be taught of who I am, or who I was, such as it were." Neia said thoughtfully, "Come on, let's go, thanks for giving me a moment to look around, both of you."

She said and strode to the carriage and got in without another backward glance. As they got in with her and the undead horses began to pull the carriage away, a terrible cry arose from the manor, as Skana, still frozen where she stood, let out a cry of anguish that felt like it would never end.


	2. Offerings

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 2: Offerings

_...Argland Council State..._

Raymond sat in his prison cell. "Six hundred and twenty two, six hundred and twenty three, six hundred and twenty five... wait... is that right?" He asked himself with annoyance that preceded a heavy sigh. "OK, I'll try it again." He said to himself. "One... two... three..." On and on he counted the stones that made up his cell in the Argland Council State where he was 'living'.

A single room, double arm length across, and five arm lengths long, a far cry from the manor in which he once lived, now reduced to this since his arrest after the siege of Kami Miyako finally ended and the last vestiges of the Slane Theocracy were crushed by an impossible army. Now it was nothing but gray stone, a small cot with a pillow, and every few days someone brought him something to read, which he'd breeze through in a few hours.

A tray sat nearby on which his food sat, decent enough, it was a bowl of stew and dried bread. He thought about the routine that had become his life since he put on this white uniform of a captive and waited for his trial. He looked up at the bars that let light stream through into his cell. 'It would be so easy... just end it all, let it be done. It's enough to know I did right by the end, Nua is safe, they're all safe. Why stay alive anymore?' He asked himself for the thousandth time. 'Come on, you know why. You know why you have to. You have to stay alive to tell the truth, to tell everyone the truth so it can never be forgotten. To say what your country did, that we created brothels where elf women were used up like toys until they broke, killed themselves, or died from the abuse, that in private houses, almost every half elf ever sold was the product of an elf maid being used by her owner. I have to tell the world what we did, the myriad of tortures found in the Breaker Academies, that turned living people into mere autonomous dolls and broke their spirits. I have to live, long enough at least to say, 'This happened, and it is all true... from the pits to the latifundias, all of it... then, then I can die.' He answered his own question, again, and looked away from the bars and down to the light that was defined and broken up by the bars.

"But how long will it be?" He asked the empty room again, "How long has it even been so far? A year? Two? I can't even guess. What is even happening out there?" 'You're talking to yourself again. Of course you are, who else can you speak to until they give you some time outside for exercise?' He let himself drift off into thought, so deeply in fact that he almost missed the sound of snapping ropes as five more prisoners were hanged.

He felt nothing, his heartbeat didn't change, his pulse didn't change, his breathing didn't change. Not even an ounce of pity for the dead human captives, nor for himself. "It'll be my turn soon enough I suppose." He said to the walls.

His reverie was interrupted by an orcish face at the door of his cell. "Raymond?" He asked.

Raymond slowly looked up, "Yes...?" He asked hesitantly, "Is it my turn?" He asked in a resigned voice.

The orc shook his thick green head, "No, you have a visitor. Put your hands through the slot for securing."

Raymond rushed to the large metal door and put his hands through quickly, he felt the chains close over his wrists and their powerful magic greatly drain his strength. "A visitor? Who?!" He asked eagerly. "Is it an elf, a human, who?!" His excited voice fairly begged for details as the door opened after his hands went back inside.

"I don't know, I'm just the one sent to get you, if you really want to know, walk quickly." The orcish guard replied, and Raymond did exactly that as he stepped out.

They paced down the long hall of similarly isolated rooms, their footfalls echoing off the walls and causing others to stir when they heard it, and peak out, desperate for any kind of stimulation. 'That' at least, Raymond could pity, the endless deathlike boredom was more tolerable than hanging.

The orc guard was heavily armed and armored, but it wasn't necessary, Raymond had no intention of resisting, he was rightly regarded as a model prisoner, but no chances were being taken. Eventually they took a sharp right and came to another door with two more guards stationed outside of it that were similarly equipped. The heavy door was unlocked, opened, and Raymond stepped inside and found a table split by a large window of thick glass between him and the other side, where another door for visitors stood.

Nobody was seated at the table opposite him, which wasn't surprising. As soon as he sat, he saw the thick iron loop secured to the table, and knew what was to happen. The guard followed him in, secured his chains to the loop, and only then did he exit and lock the door behind him.

A moment later, the door on the other side of the room opened, and a familiar face not seen in a long time, came through. "You? Why are 'you' here to see 'me'?" Raymond asked in utter disbelief.

_...Road from the Papal Estate..._

Neia sat in the carriage as it moved along the road at breakneck speed. Her arms folded over each other in her lap, she looked down at her hands uncomfortably. Silence reigned as Gagaran sat with her hammer on her lap and rolled it back and forth over herself to pass the time and ease the boredom of guarding Neia, 'just a bit'.

Vanysa kept looking out the window where she sat beside Neia, she seemed intent on not looking at her prisoner.

Neia didn't look up for a long time, but finally she at least spoke, "Why are we taking the slow way? We could gate there in an instant. And why not the Argland Council State? Aren't they doing 'all' the war crimes trials?"

"Treaties with several foreign governments, they're uncomfortable with the 'gate' spell." Vanysa explained unhappily, "We're going overland the whole way, truth is... I actually asked that we go overland for this part too, His Majesty did me a favor there."

"Why?" Neia asked without looking at her. "I thought you were my friend, did you want to drag out my torment?" Neia asked in a small, hurt voice.

The demoness shook her head, "No, I'm a torturer, but I don't torture everyone, I asked for this because..." She bit her lip and closed her eyes, fighting to keep her madness at bay.

"You asked because you think I'm guilty, that they'll kill me, and you're trying to keep me alive just a little bit longer, aren't you?" Neia asked with the quietness of a grave.

Gagaran's eyes popped open and she stared hard at Neia.

Vanysa nodded slowly.

"Before... when you took me to get help... you said I wasn't guilty though..." Neia's voice was questioning, but she trailed off in the same way as Vanysa a moment earlier.

Vanysa still didn't meet Neia's eyes, even as she lost the battle against her own mind, "Ah meant it then, an ah mean this now, yer nah talkin bout the kinda guilt ah punish fer." She snapped her head around and her skin turned gold, her hands grew talons and her horns sprang out as fast as her wings. She took Neia's face in her hands and she looked close. Their eyes locked tight, "I see it all, everything you did, but do you know what distinguishes what you did from the kind of guilt I torture people for?"

"What...?" Neia asked, unable and unwilling to look away.

"Thems what done stuff that ah hurt people for, what makes em real bad... lotsa that stuff, is like what you done. If'n they said ta hurtcha, oh ah remember whatcha asked me, yah asked why ah don't make yah scream yer soul out. Its cause even though it was right bad, yah didn't choose it, yah didn't want it. Least ways nah the worst of it, far as whatcha done to them breakers an overseers, that there's justice." Vanysa laughed madly and flung herself back into her seat, her sharp talons played about in the air between them until her insanity broke.

"You 'are' guilty Neia, in another sense, but you're not my kind of prey because of 'why' you are guilty, and you 'are' my friend, and I don't want to hurt you. If they tell me to, I will... I am a faithful servant first, but I will not enjoy it even a little… OK maybe a little. I am a demoness after all. So while you are probably riding to your death, this little span of extra life is the only thing I can give you. I am... truly sorry." Vanysa said with clarity in her storm gray eyes.

Neia didn't respond, she just went back to looking down at her hands.

"As for why not Argland, well the Dragon Lords begged off of it, they suggested that it be a truly neutral venue. You're a very... popular human among the demihumans and heteromorphs and whatnot, all over the Sorcerous Empire. A reasonable trial can be conducted over ordinary people, but if they try you and find you innocent, the people in the old Theocracy will never believe it. This will be forever tainted." Vanysa answered calmly and went quiet.

"Nothing to say to that, not going to deny it?" Gagaran asked.

"Should I?" Neia asked.

"No." Gagaran responded bluntly.

"Then why did you think I would?" Neia replied with a little, resigned smile on her face. "Did you think I'm that kind of a coward, that I'd ask for a venue that would just find me innocent?"

Gagaran shook her head vigorously. "No, you're no coward, but I expected justifications at least, for the things you're guilty of."

Neia didn't bother looking up at the implied insult. "I guess this is at least going to be a relief for you though."

"It is." Gagaran said tentatively.

"How come?" Vanysa asked as she looked over at Gagaran.

"It isn't obvious?" Gagaran looked at the demoness in surprise as she fidgeted with her hammer's grip.

"No." Vanysa replied, "I was surprised when you volunteered for this, I was going to ask for Lakyus or for a member of Nazarick to come with me for this. To have you offer was a surprise."

"Because she's a threat, she's dangerous, I knew she was a potential problem as soon as we saw her again in Kedyn. Lakyus and the others don't see it, but I do. She almost killed my sister, not just once, but a few times. You can't do the things she does, and then just dismiss things as accidents after that. She injured Tuare, we know from her own lips that she injured Enri, she almost crushed people in a fit of temper..." She looked over to Neia with a sad expression and a deep frown on her face.

Gagaran carried on in a more tender voice than she expected out of herself, "Neia I'm sorry, I don't actually hate you, I really don't, in a way, I'm profoundly grateful, you helped bring about a world where Keeno can live happily and without hating herself, a world where we can love her for who she is and not just for who she was pretending to be. You did... wonderful things. But the power you manifested, and your..."

"Just say it." Neia asked with resignation. "My problems."

Gagaran's voice hardened slightly, but retained a tremble that carried itself to her fingertips, "Yes, your problems. I can't let you just wander around not knowing when you're going to encounter something that sets you off. You lost it once and almost an entire city died. You infected my mind somehow, you made me into a monster, I... I crushed skulls, I smashed chests, I lost myself to my bloodlust in a way I've never done before, you turned me into that, your voice, your will... it isn't you that I hate, Neia. It is what I became, what lots of others became, 'because' of you. You have to answer for that, and if it costs you your life, then it does, and there will be one less danger to my sisters in the world."

"I take it you'll be testifying against me then?" Neia asked rhetorically.

"If I'm asked to, I plan to do so." Gagaran replied calmly. "If the truth convicts you, then you should be convicted."

"With that I can agree. I admit I've expected this end for quite some time, I just... I wish it had come later, and I hate what it is doing to Skana... I'm sure she's already seeking an audience with father to beg for my freedom." Neia replied as she looked out the window at the trees and people racing past in the fast moving carriage.

"She will find only disappointment." Gagaran replied pityingly.

"I know, I wouldn't be here if father didn't will it." Neia answered with an easy tranquility in her voice.

"You're not angry with him?" Gagaran asked with surprise that caused her back to stiffen sharply.

"No." Neia said without looking away from the window and watching the ground roll past. "I expect nothing less out of him, his justice is my justice, and no matter what anyone says about what actually happened, the questions about what happened demand a public answer. How can he claim to dispense justice over the humans in the former Theocracy, while I am never called to account for what people say of my actions? I'm sure General Enri has been pushing for this for some time, and even if she hadn't, I'm sure the people she's been ruling over, have been."

Neia laughed briefly and seemed to relax, "She's a stubborn one, I'll give her that. So, how long will it take before we reach the Minotaur Kingdom?"

Vanysa answered promptly in a professional tone, "About a month, you'll have to select your defense team before we get there though. So be thinking about that along the way. You can ask for anyone you want except for His Majesty. The Sorcerer King won't participate in the trial in any way."

"Defense team?" Neia asked quizzically, "I don't understand."

"Oh," Vanysa said and smiled a little, "since this is going to be the biggest trial of this century, His Majesty wanted to ensure it was also the most fair and open. There will be a prosecutor and their co-counsel, a panel of judges to determine guilt, and you will have two defenders to speak for you. Your team will be able to call friendly witnesses, and they will be able to question the ones called by the prosecutors. Every bit of evidence both for and against will be presented, then the panel will either acquit or convict you, and they will render a sentence accordingly. Whether you are released, hanged, or sentenced to 'worse' falls to them."

"I see, but how will anyone see it? How will this be done openly?" Neia asked with increasing curiosity.

"The trial will be conducted in a public pavillion in the capital, and His Majesty will use some of his messenger demons, while a complex web of illusionists in major cities will recreate the scene in public squares, citizens around the Empire will see His Majesty's justice on full display." Vanysa explained with a tone that said she was both proud and thrilled by the degree to which magic was being incorporated in such a unique way.

"Amazing." Neia said in a hushed breath, her awe so great that she briefly forgot that her life was on the line.

"But wait," She asked, "Can't I just speak for myself, why do I need defenders?"

Gagaran spoke up, "Absolutely not. That was one of the conditions."

"Conditions?" Neia asked with dread that caused her to suddenly bite her tongue against the rising tide of anxiety.

Vanysa had a deep frown on her face and she folded her arms in front of her ample breasts as she huffed indignantly. "You're not going to like this part, but you are absolutely prohibited from speaking, not even a hint of your voice is going to be heard except under tight circumstances. Also, you're going to be hooded so that you can't look at anyone."

"But..." Neia gaped at them.

"They don't trust you." Gagaran said bluntly. "The Minotaur Kingdom's ambassador warned them that you were the incarnation of terror, and that you used that terror to break spirits like wood cutters break logs. The only way they were willing to do this is if every scrap of your power was hobbled. You'll be chained up, you'll be gagged, you'll be hooded so that you can't use those eyes or that tongue on anyone in any way, nor can you rise to do violence to anyone."

Neia looked down again, "To even imagine it... it's so..." She shuddered, "It reminds me of the way the slaves were treated, the elves that were hooded in Kami Miyako before they were killed for their meat, so they wouldn't see and so wouldn't panic... is there no other option at all?"

Vanysa reached out and touched Neia's hand, enfolding it gently in her talons, "None, I am so sorry, truly I am. You've made such progress and... I know, with the baby coming... this tears me up... please... just be as strong as you can, bear with it."

"What else can they do... am I going to have to go naked too so they can see I'm not armed!" Neia exclaimed as tears of anger started to form. "How much humiliation must I endure?! Can't I just say I'm guilty and let them hang me already?! At least then I can go with some dignity!"

Vanysa squeezed her hand, "I'm sorry, but this is your father's will. A public accusation of wrong like this is unprecedented, but all should know the truth, whatever it is, so you must bear it."

Neia sniffled hard, "Then I will. If I can be tried, anyone can, and that is message enough. I'll... endure. It is after all, what I do best."


	3. Reunion

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 3: Reunion

Solution gave him the inhuman smile he knew very well. "Long time, no see, Raymond. "How's my favorite serial killer?"

He snorted. "You could at 'least' call me an assassin. Serial killers kill for pleasure, I killed for purpose."

She propped her cheek up against her hand as she put her elbow on the table. "No human in the world knows you better than I do, you enjoyed every single kill, your knife work was too good to be just professional, you're an artist. Maybe duty got you started, but doing it got you off."

He leaned back in his chair with a sigh, "This again? Did you really come to see me just for that?"

She giggled and sat up, her broad, inhuman smile on her face still, she looked down demurely and twirled a finger through her golden locks. "Oh... no, not 'just' that. Why I just thought you'd like to get a chance to do something... special. Or rather... my master thought you might like the chance."

"Special?" Raymond raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean 'special'?" He asked suspiciously.

"You've been waiting all this time for your own trial as the last surviving ruler of the Slane Theocracy, so... how about a chance to have it and end the wait?" Solution proposed with a little half smile replacing her broad one.

'I know that look, she has something else in mind.' He furrowed his brow and looked at her in silence.

"Eh-heh... can't let a girl have her fun?" Solution asked.

He stared at her blankly.

"Oh, pooh..." She pouted, "Fine, yes, your trial would take place, but you'd also be testifying at someone else's. Give true testimony, and you may get other than life in prison, maybe hard labor, or something else, I don't know, but your life would be guaranteed."

"Whose trial?" Raymond asked with surprise, both his eyes enlarged just a bit at the unexpected statement.

"The trial of General Neia Baraja for war crimes. You're being called to testify about the nature of the breaker academies, latifundias, and places like Wheaton. You're an 'expert witness' if I remember the term properly." Solution explained, then leaned forward a little. "What do you say?"

Raymond's body tensed, she smiled, she had him, he knew it, she knew it, he knew she knew it. "I'll tell them everything, with or without a deal."

"I knew you would, I told His Majesty as much." Solution said smugly.

"Who is calling me to testify?" Raymond asked as the thought suddenly occurred to him, "To whom am I considered an 'expert'?"

"The Sorcerer King, of course." Solution said as if the question's answer was obvious.

"I see, well, when do we begin?" He asked bluntly. Her inhuman smile spread over her face again.

"Immediately, do you require time in Kami Miyako to prepare yourself? Access to notes, captured records, anything?" She asked urgently.

"No... most of those were probably destroyed in the fires, my... own memory is the best I can offer. I assume slaves who survived, are willing to speak up as well?" He asked hopefully.

"Yes, most of them." She said casually, "But you're a leader of the country responsible, for you to say what happened, truthfully, is what he calls 'vital corroboration', so with that in mind... are you sure you need nothing?"

"No, nothing. Except..." He hesitated.

"Go on." She invited him pleasantly.

"I'm going as a former head of state, it wouldn't be a bad idea to present me as such, proper clothing, clean, and with my beard well trimmed." He proposed hopefully.

"Feeling a little vain now are we?" She asked with an arch smile.

"Just a little, but it is true regardless." He said confidently.

"I'll make sure it's done." She replied politely and stood to go.

"Oh, by the way, where is General Baraja now? At home until the trial?" He asked curiously. 'I wonder what favor he has given to his most faithful general.' Raymond wondered idly as he thought of all the 'exceptions' made for the powerful in the past.

"She's on her way to the Minotaur Kingdom capital, she'll be held as a prisoner there until and during the trial. Why, what did you expect?" Solution asked with curiosity of her own.

Raymond's mouth opened and closed several times... "Wait so this is serious? Not just a show?"

Solution looked daggers at him, "Very serious. Lord Demiurge and his demoness assistant are acting as prosecutors, she's going to trial, and if she's found guilty the tribunal could sentence her to death for what she did. This isn't a game, Raymond, treat it seriously."

"I take it you have a preferred outcome?" He said rhetorically.

She chose to answer, "Of course I do. I don't care about humans as a rule, but some of you are more fun than others."

"Figures. Alright, you can head back, Lady Solution, and tell the Sorcerer King I will testify with or without any consideration, and that I will speak the truth as I know it." Raymond answered calmly.

"Guard, we're done here!" Raymond shouted, and Solution stood up to depart.

"See you soon, Raymond." She winked at him, and walked out as he was taken back to his cell.

_...Carriage..._

"So, can I ask you to defend me?" Neia asked as the carriage swept over the landscape.

Vanysa looked at her unhappily. "I'm sorry, but no." Her storm gray eyes flickered a little, but held firm. "I... am one of those assigned to prosecute you, I will be assisting Lord Demiurge. I suspect he's hoping that if you're guilty you'll be sentenced to be an experiment for him, to make more like you. It's kind of a compliment... really."

Neia folded her arms in front of her chest. "Forgive me if I do not feel excessively praised at the moment." She said dryly.

"I'm not too surprised at Demiurge, but... you... agreed to prosecute me?" Neia looked over at Vanysa with betrayal etched all over her face. "You took me to get help... you held my hand until they led me away..." She gestured to where Gagaran sat, silent and uncomfortable, "She I expect to be here, or to do... that or help with it. But you?"

Vanysa folded her talons together in her lap. "Such were my orders. I am perhaps more demon than human, now. Maybe... before, I couldn't do this, or maybe I could. I never know anymore what part of me is what as I stand betwixt and between both sides of my being. I do not want you to be hurt, my friend. But... Demiurge and I work well together, and will make an effective team. This has to be done, and that is all there is to it, haven't you said something to that effect yourself?" She asked plaintively.

Neia looked out the window, "I guess I have. Gagaran... you... Lord Demiurge, acting under father's orders... how many more will I see arrayed against me? This is in a way, worse than death."

"I'm sure the population of Wheaton would strongly disagree with you, Neia." Gagaran grumbled. "I still feel the rage in my soul sometimes, when I sleep at night, like your... infection, is still inside me. And when I dream of the people I killed... not just in Wheaton... but everywhere before and after, I still hear it. I still hear your voice whispering to me. 'Kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill...' your voice haunts my nightmares now. So Neia, having people you trust sit and speak of what you've done, is the most minor of punishments by comparison!" Gagaran ground out and fidgeted with her hammer.

"You could have just demanded satisfaction out of me, you know. I would have given you a duel if that would have helped you. Offering you a chance to hit me yourself would be the least I could do." Neia said invitingly. "Maybe giving me a sound adamantite adventurer thrashing wouldn't have fixed everything but… it couldn't hurt. Well, other than me. Me it would hurt a lot."

That bought a great deal of silence over much of the remaining journey.

"So, who will you choose as your defenders?" Vanysa asked when they eventually reached the border.

"If they are willing, I choose Lady Albedo and Pandora's Actor. Two geniuses of that sort should be very helpful." Neia replied as she reclined in her seat.

"Are you going to fight this, then?" Gagaran snapped at her with disgust.

"I think... I have to." Neia replied quietly, "I think I'm expected to do so, I think if I don't, it'll look forever after as if this is just a show before executing someone. That is just as bad as if it were to appear to be a show just to excuse someone. Perhaps that's why it's me. Because Gagaran, there are two things I do. I endure... and I fight. I guess I'm going to have to do both at least one more time."

"That's the Neia I know! All full of piss and vinegar and ready for another brawl!" Vanysa grinned and put her talon under Neia's chin and lifted it up a little. "Take pride, even where you were at your worst, you changed the world. If this is how you go out, then it means you change the world one more time, after all, if 'you' can be tried, anyone can be. You'll create accountability for everyone for generations to come. All them nobles what done bad stuff ta girls like me knew to their bones that ain't nobody was goin ta do shit to em. Butcha know what... you in chains, might make bones quake for generations, so bear with it, come what may... you'lla made this place better again."

Neia held her head up proudly and with dignity, and the golden demoness kissed her forehead affectionately, "And yah know what... ah'll bet His Majesty'll be watchin, and watchin proud."

The pope closed her eyes, 'Father, if what she says is true, if this is my last... trial... then grant me strength again, let me stand again as I did at Yanana, and whether I am guilty or innocent, let it all be worth something, and help me to not shame your justice, to the very end.' She prayed silently to herself, and then she drifted off.

When Neia was sound asleep, and only the rhythmic sound of her breathing came from her body, Vanysa looked over to Gagaran. "You could be a little kinder, you know." She rebuked the giant woman.

"No." Gagaran replied succinctly.

"But didn't you two fight together? Serve together, doesn't that matter? Aren't bonds like that 'tight' for people like you?" Vanysa asked her with a curious expression on her face.

"Yes." Gagaran replied and folded her arms defensively.

"Sooo?" Vanysa held a hand out and rolled it at the wrist, inviting her to continue.

Gagaran rubbed her temple and sighed, "I had my doubts about that one from the moment I laid eyes on her. It was a huge relief when Lakyus sent her packing the first time we met. Our repeated encounters with her though, only ever left me with more doubts. She's dangerously single minded, I'm convinced that if the Sorcerer King told her to gut me, she'd do it without blinking. Loyalty is great, but all loyalty is somewhat divided by nature. I'm loyal to Lakyus, but if she told me to just kill Keeno... I'd have questions. For her..." she gestured to the sleeping Neia, "I get the feeling that isn't the case. No matter how deeply she loves someone else, to her, the King comes first, and nobody else will register if his wishes call for their demise. That alone makes me uncomfortable around her. But..."

"But?" Vanysa asked doubtfully.

"Wheaton. I was there, remember? You weren't, you don't know!" Gagaran hissed the words out with an eye toward the sleeping pope as if fearing to wake her. "Things were pretty standard for the first hour or two, but at some point... for whatever reason... I heard a voice, her voice. Telling me to kill. Just over and over, it was sweeter than the seductive voice of a devoted lover, comforting as a blanket over a cool bed, warm as a summer bonfire... it was such a beautiful idea... all the killing I could do. I wanted it, it was... every swing of the hammer was like great sex, and I couldn't get enough, I just wanted to kill, I wanted to do what the voice suggested... I didn't care who, as long as they weren't my own. She made me into a berserker. Killing soldiers... it's one thing, but not everybody I killed, was one of those. She made me into a monster, and she did it to an army."

Gagaran shuddered at the memory and went on, "I meant what I said, I'm grateful to her for what she did to give Keeno a world she could just be herself in, I don't want her tortured, I don't want her to suffer... but I'll never rest easy knowing that kind of ability is just wandering the world where it can do that all over again. Maybe I'm not entirely fair to her, I've heard she saw some horrible things that pushed her too far... but I doubt any of it can justify losing control like that. Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to sleep, can you take the first shift?"

"I've got it." Vanysa said with understanding, as Gagaran rested her head against the corner of the carraige where she sat, and closed her eyes as well.

_...Papal Estate..._

When Neia had been taken away, Skana wept for hours. "I let... them take her... I let them take her... I just... they came, they collected her, and just walked away like it was nothing. How could I allow them to do that... how could I?" She asked as Enlaith held onto her while they sat on the bed Skana shared with her wife.

"You had to... it is his will, it is..." Enlaith began, then aborted the words she almost uttered, 'No, do not say that, it won't help, it could never help, just hold her...' The elf woman reminded herself and tightened her grip on the second most dangerous woman in the Black Justice military order.

"It wasn't supposed to be this way... we finished the war, we finished the Synod, our world was at peace..." Skana bit her lip sharply enough to draw blood. "We were supposed to have lives now. She was finally free, 'we' were finally free of all that, I hoped we'd finally get to start, and... and we did. But now here we are again! Only I can't do anything for her!" Skana shrieked and flung her arm out in a rage, shattering the wooden post of the bed and sending it flying into a wall.

Enlaith didn't flinch from the rage filled green eye of the mistress of the house. "You know, when Enri was visiting 'Illyana's House' she told me something, something she heard once. She said, 'Sometimes the people whose job it is to give hope, don't get to have it'."

"Hmphf," Skana snorted, "That doesn't sound like the Enri I know."

"Right." Enlaith smiled gently, "Your wife told her that, at the Forton Conference, when she was near her lowest point, and you know what, at the time, your wife... she really believed it. She saw no future for herself, for the both of you."

As Enlaith stroked Skana's cheek, the wife of the Pope choked out, "Is... this supposed to make me feel better... because it is not working."

Enlaith shook her head and then put her forehead to Skana's, "No, mistress, but this might." She cupped Skana's face and said melodically, "She ended that thinking, she found hope again, she found a reason to live again, she worked really hard, but she was finding her feet and a way to make a future for herself. She's not without hope, so you can't be either, if you really want to help her, well where's the next place you should be? You're Skana the Bold, not Wala the Wailer... go and do what you do best! Find a way to help her, and get her free the way she should be! And you know what, if you can't just 'get her out' then do the next best thing, and go to where she is!"

Skana perked up and hugged Enlaith in a bone cracking embrace. "Ow..." Enlaith grunted, and Skana immediately let go.

"Sorry about the grip, but you're right! You're absolutely right!" The auburn haired warrior woman shot to her feet, "Bring me a scroll! I need to send a message to Nazarick!" She pounded the doors of her bedroom open and shouted out into the manor beyond, "Someone prepare my finest clothing, I need to be ready to meet my father-in-law as soon as possible, bring it all to the bath, not a moment to be lost!"

Enlaith rubbed her biceps where she suspected a small bruise or two might form, but she smirked confidently. 'That's more like it, my lady.' She thought to herself, and got up to go get the things she'd need to properly do Skana's hair.

_...Nazarick..._

"So it's finally happening, isn't it?" Albedo asked rhetorically to Demiurge.

"It is." Demiurge responded as he pushed himself away from his desk. "But you didn't come here to say that, did you Lady Albedo?"

"No. I came to ask if you've concluded anything about our Lord's plans." She asked him optimistically.

Demiurge walked past her without saying a word, and closed the door, giving them total privacy. "That isn't why you've really come either, is it?"

Albedo went and leaned against a wall for support. "No."

Demiurge looked at her, and sat at the end of his desk. "We are alone. Whatever you have to say, I swear on Lord Ainz's name that I will repeat it to no one."

"I want you to throw the trial." Albedo said bluntly.

He met her golden eyes with his crystal ones, and was surprised at the depth of emotion he saw within.

"Are you really getting emotional over... that human girl?" Demiurge asked her as if he wasn't sure if his own eyes were working properly.

Albedo shook her head vigorously. "No, regardless of all she's done, regardless of her tests, and what she's accomplished... she is still just another human. Loyal enough I don't mind her presence, but killing her would mean nothing to me."

"Then what is it?" Demiurge asked dubiously.

"I'm not asking for her, or for me, I'm asking for Lord Ainz." She responded plainly, "Remember what I said before? That he treats her as if his feelings towards her are genuine, and that I believe they are?"

"I do." Demiurge replied patiently.

"I believe letting her go through this is hard for him, I believe, whatever his master plan, he's treating this as a gamble... like when he had to fight Shalltear years ago, he knew there was a chance of defeat, even his most intricate plans... well he makes so many of them because he's aware that any one of them might go wrong. Whatever his true intentions... I don't believe he truly wants her to suffer or die. He's gambling with her life for a greater goal."

Demiurge smacked his forehead, and Albedo's interest piqued as he did so, her moment of emotion passed as the genius of Nazarick asserted itself. "You've realized something, haven't you?" She asked.

"I feel like such a fool." Demiurge sighed listlessly, "His plan. In our study of this world, how many kings based their authority on power alone?"

"All of them." She answered without hesitation.

"Exactly. Good or bad, all relied on power as the basis for their authority, but our lord in his infinite wisdom, and infinite power, has seen that to truly distinguish himself and forge a true break with the past, power alone is insufficient. To create 'buy in' from the many conquered peoples, and win the devoted reverence of those beyond the borders, the foundation for his rule is..." He gestured to her, to allow her to finish the thought.

"His justice. That's why he guided the girl the way he did... that's why he led her to the understanding of the role the power plays in the pursuit of justice. He made power into an instrument of justice, and bound the two so closely together through the human advocate that his power does not become a source of fear, but of safety. Instead of repelling outsiders, it draws them in..." Albedo clenched her fist and held it over her heart, she slapped the wall with her other hand, stunned at the realization of his mastery over events, her golden eyes shone with admiration, and were reflected back at her in the crystalline eyes of her fellow genius.

"Yes, he's putting her life on the line, to prove it isn't just an illusion, if 'she' is accountable for her actions, everybody is, nobody will ever say under his rule that they are too personally important to be tried, or too important to be held accountable." Demiurge wove his fingers together, and added, "I'm afraid that means I can't throw this trial as you ask."

"But... I see it troubles him, I won't pretend to understand why he bonds to a mere human, no matter what else is odd about her, but if that is how my beloved feels, then I must protect him no matter what." Albedo said fervently.

"Then you will have to do so by winning legitimately. I for one, will enjoy contesting against you, as I carry out Lord Ainz's will." He said with a proud expression of confidence on his face.

"You heard I was requested as her representative?" Albedo asked, raising her eyebrow at the unexpected knowledge.

"No," Demiurge shook his head, "it was just the logical conclusion that she'd choose you and Pandora's Actor. She seems to have some... preference, for you, in some way, and I have seen her enjoy practicing her rhetoric with Pandora's Actor. That stage ham loves it when she visits, because who else will spar with him using words for hours on end? Plus, he's a genius as well. Were it I in her position, I would choose both of you as well."

"Then may the best representative win." Albedo said, and approached Demiurge with her dainty hand extended.

He took it firmly, "I plan to." He said with a cocky smile that was met with it's match, and then the moment passed, their grips fell away, and Albedo exited his office without a backward glance.


	4. What is Enough

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 4: What is Enough

_...Before the Throne of Kings...Nazarick..._

Skana knelt before the god of her world, the King of Kings, god of gods, emperor of emperors. She wore a dress of shimmering black and white that crossed over her breasts, and left her arms bare, it split at the thigh allowing complete freedom of movement. As formal wear went, it was the opposite of the frills of noble ladies who sat at parlor and did nothing but drag a sea of fabric from one place to another to be seated. It was the formal wear of a warrior woman.

Her head bowed before the Throne of Kings, she stretched out her hands to her master, grateful at least, that he saw her alone so that no other would see her in this way, she begged him with a desperate voice. "My lord... please... see her set free! See my Neia... your Neia... brought home! Has she not suffered enough... have 'I' not suffered enough?! I beg you, I beg you... in the name of loyalty, in the name of love, in the name I have yet to choose for the child I now carry... please stop this..."

She got the words out entirely before she broke down in tears, while on his throne, Ainz sat motionless as the throne beneath him. He let her weep until the loud wail of a storm became a gentle urgent rain.

"Skana... you know that I cannot do this. There are some things that even a king, the king of kings, must not do even when he can. I cannot spare my daughter this ordeal. Even if I could, sparing her would harm her worse than anything else. You know her heart, her nature, her strength of will, better than anyone alive." He replied, holding out a hand as if to take hers into his skeletal fingers.

"My Lord... my... father in law, I know the love you bear for her as your servant and as your champion among the living. Surely you can't want this... we were just getting our lives back together, we were at peace. What purpose can this turmoil serve?" Skana asked in an agonized voice, her face twisted in pain, her eyes squeezed shut so tightly that her lids wrinkled on her face.

"Justice is the aspect she loves best in me, I embody the path of justice through strength. But strength without accountability can only become cruelty. If she is not held accountable for what she did in Wheaton, it will say to all the world I rule and in the lands beyond that the powerful are not required to be just. She is, as you say, a daughter to me. That makes her in the eyes of the world at least, not just a religious leader, but a princess. If she can oversee slaughter without ever being called to stand in judgment for it, then it is to say that her beliefs are a lie. Too, it sets a precedent that will permit anyone in command of an army to lose control of themselves or their forces, and that cannot be permitted." His noble voice was not without a catch to it, and Skana, ever observant in ways her wife was not, noticed it.

"My lord... please... surely there must be something that can be done?!" She begged him as she flung herself prostrate to the floor.

"She will be given the best possible defense, every legal consideration will be given to her, if I know my Neia, she will choose two of the geniuses of my realm as her defenders, and they will do their utmost for her, and for me." Ainz said firmly.

"May I ask... do you believe her guilty... please... let me know your heart, my Lord." Skana asked with a trembling lip as she failed to raise her head to meet his gaze.

"That I cannot tell you. I will allow you to go see her when she arrives at the prison where she is to be held. But if you go with my answer in your heart, you will reveal it to her, by accident or by intent. That will change how she sees the events that lie ahead, and may taint everything forever. Know that I have not given up on her, as she never gave up on me, and let that be enough." Ainz said patiently.

"My Lord... could you not have just ordered her to remain in our home? She would not have left, you know this, surely." Skana probed further with a tumultuous storm raging in her mind.

"She wouldn't, of that I have no doubt, I could make an open field into her cage simply by telling her to remain where I put her. She is that kind of loyal. Yet Raymond sits in prison, as do many of the Theocracy prisoners being tried before him. If I leave her seemingly free, then I create the appearance of favor, and that may influence the verdict, and it will definitely influence how the world sees it. By putting her on par with all others, I show that none are beyond my laws, not even those I call my children. Neither she, nor I, would have it any other way. We both know of Neia's nature, the dragon's heart she has within her human breast beats in pain only that she wounds you and those she loves. She seldom aches for herself. So I, you, and all who love her, must ache for her. She will endure, and if she can do so, then we must as well."

Skana broke down into sobs again and touched her belly where their first child rested in comfort, so loud and introspective was the warrior woman that she did not hear him rise to his feet, did not see him descend the steps one by one until he was before her, and did not notice when he stopped. She was lost in herself until his skeletal hands reached down beside her face and he began to raise her up, he was kneeling there, and made for her to face him.

He bowed his head, "Truly, I am sorry. But this must be, we will bear it together, all of us, and have faith in her strength to endure. No one else does that better than she, come what may, she will bear up beneath the weight placed on her.

...Kirakira Prison...Minotaur Kingdom...one month later...

'We're here.' Vanysa said succinctly, her wings began to slowly emerge from her back and her body reshaped itself into that of a demoness.

"Why the transformation?" Neia asked, "I promise I'm not going to try to escape, I gave my word."

"Credibility." Gagaran replied. "They don't listen much to humans."

"They will." Neia replied shortly and folded her arms.

"Neia... behave. Just... try not to do anything that might be used against you during this trial. Please." Vanysa said sincerely. Her eyes clouded briefly before she blinked away the feelings that were rising against her will.

Neia opened the shutters and poked her head out the window as a means of distraction. "OK, it isn't Nazarick but... still, impressive in a crude sort of way." She said to her 'companions'. The stone walls were not small bricks stacked large, but enormous boulders shaped into monolithic slabs, each one the length of three of her body and each one as wide as three of her laid side by side and just as thick on their side. A great orichalcum door opened up inch by inch with a great groaning noise, and as soon as the carriage entered, it began to close behind them. The door was framed by a pair of enormous upright monoliths, rough cut and not smoothed down, making them appear more crude than the construction around her suggested that they really were.

At last the carriage slowed and halted.

Gagaran reached out and opened the door, as she stepped down she turned to face the door, and Vanysa gestured for Neia to go next. She did, and was quickly followed by the demoness.

"This way." Vanysa said calmly, and walked ahead, Neia fell in behind, and Gagaran at her back holding her hefty hammer as she always did when ready to use it, over one shoulder.

This was not lost on Neia. 'She thinks I'll try something, she really doesn't trust me at all.' Neia thought to herself as she saw the shadow of Gagaran's swagger behind her.

"Hey Gagaran, one more question before we go in?" Neia asked as they approached the door.

"What did your sisters say about you volunteering for this?" Neia asked without a hint of catch in her voice.

"Tia and Tina didn't agree, but understood. Evileye and Lakyus though... they're giving me the silent treatment at the moment." She admitted begrudgingly.

"I see, well next time you see them, tell them I said I don't hold this against you, and if I don't, they can't." Neia said with a little smile Gagaran couldn't see.

The behemoth of a woman hesitated for only a half step, before resuming the walk, "I-I'll tell them that." She stumbled over the words as Vanysa opened the main entrance to the administrative building.

It was empty save for one table, a handful of large bare chested minotaurs holding large double headed battle axes, and an unarmed administrator sitting at the table.

"Not what I expected." Neia said thoughtfully.

"It's supposed to be a day off for them." Vanysa said helpfully, "I had to promise a favor of myself to get this open to receive you today."

The administrator grunted and folded his arms in front of himself unhappily.

"She's right, now get over here and let's get this over with, I want my day off, and you're in the way of it, human." He snorted out in his deep baritone way.

'OK Neia, behave, be polite, be deferential, don't make trouble, remember what you learned in Nazarick, first observe and understand, then act, boldly and armed with knowledge.' She reminded herself of the lessons she'd learned beside Zaryusu before the war.

She approached and kept her head lowered, and her eyes their shining blue.

Vanysa held out a document and the minotaur administrator stamped it in a perfunctory way. "Receipt of the prisoner is acknowledged. Suitable prison wear is already in her cell waiting for her."

"Alright, but remember, you are strongly advised not to keep her in the general population while she's here." Gagaran said urgently.

"We don't have any place we can isolate her, she'll have to make do. My guards are good ones, we'll keep her alive, and the leaders of the big gangs have been advised not to kill her. I can't promise nobody will rough her up, but if she can't get food on her own, well we won't let her starve, and we won't let her die." He said with confidence and indifference in his voice.

Gagaran let out a bitter laugh, "I'm not saying this for 'her' sake, I'm saying it for the sake of the rest of your prisoners, and anyone else who gets on her bad side."

The administrator looked at her cross eyed, then looked to the little human who had her head down as they all spoke, and he burst out laughing.

The minotaur guards laughed as soon as the administrator began to, "She might have been something dangerous to you humans, but we're minotaurs, we're bigger, stronger, and there are a lot of us. She won't pose any problems."

Vanysa chuckled wickedly, "Alright, please also stamp the part down there where you were advised of this, and elected to ignore it."

He grumbled, snatched the document back, stamped it one more time, and handed it over again. "She really wasn't kidding though." Vanysa said, sweetness dripping from her demonic tongue.

"I heard you. But we're minotaurs, this won't be a problem." He said, gesturing to the quiet Neia.

"Alright you, come with me, and be quick about it." He said in a huff as he got up from the table, a minotaur guard walked away from the wall and followed behind Neia as she went quietly behind the administrator as he headed for another door.

She wondered briefly if either Gagaran or Vanysa looked back as she left, but put the thought out of her mind as they went into the main holding area. Minotaur prison cells lined the walls, and chatter went to nothing as they noticed a single human being walked along the rail path near the main office.

Neia looked over the side, up and down, a great open area lay below, and the sky was open up above. "Lot of prisoners here." Neia said casually.

"Crime is a problem in our kingdom." He answered, and offered nothing more, silence ruled for a moment more, before he began to speak again. "You'll be fed tomorrow, food is thrown into a pile down below, prisoners are all marched down there, and then you all help yourselves. You're only human, so if you want enough to eat, your best bet is to become a pet to one of the bigger ones, chances are the prestige of having a human general as a pet to do tricks for him will be reason enough to feed you well." He laughed harshly as he reached a cell and opened it up.

When she didn't respond to his suggestion, and simply walked in with seeming meekness, he shrugged. "Anything else you can tell me?" She asked as the bars shut.

"Guards rule the walls and the rails, prisoners rule the yard below, fuck with either at your own risk. Remember that, human, now get dressed and put your other clothes out here to be taken up and stored for later. You'll be allowed to change into them every day before your trial, you've got a few days here before it begins, or so I'm told. The guards know to come to me if you're at risk of starving or need medical help from beatings."

"Beatings?" Neia asked quietly.

'Funny, she doesn't sound afraid.' He thought to himself with an inkling of surprise that manifested into a slight twitch of his cheek..

"Minotaurs value strength, respect strength, and nothing else… most of the time. Someone will want to put you in your place very quickly. Best advice for you little girl, let them, and it won't hurt as much." He said with a hint of kindness in his voice, however small.

Neia didn't nod or even look up, "I'll take your words under advisement. But am I allowed to defend myself, and if so, how far can I take that?" She asked deferentially.

He laughed, "If you think you can, do so, doesn't matter, nobody cares if the prisoners here die."

"Thank you for the information." She said politely. Then the lock turned and sealed her in, and he shrugged and left her behind.

"Enjoy your day off." She said politely, and turned to look at the enormous cot where a set of clothing sat bound in twine.

As soon as the administrator and his escort were gone, the taunting began from the surrounding cells. Lewd suggestions, violent threats, mockery, words rained down like arrows, minotaur fists rattled bars, and the cacophony of noise all struck her ears, the lewd suggestions increased as she took off her present attire and reached for the clothing she was meant to wear. The slightly higher voices suggested that there were some minotaur females here as well, and those were no less lewd than their large male counterparts. "So, common prison accommodations." She said thoughtfully as she followed directions, bound her own clothing up, and set it outside the bars. "I guess the lewd stuff is all talk then, doubt that would be allowed." She said to the empty walls and ignored all the racket.

She looked down at her clothing, it was all black, an emblem on it in a very slightly different shade, marked it as belonging to the Sorcerous Empire. A smile touched her face as she caressed it. "Yes. I am still of my homeland. Father, if this is your gift, I will honor it."

She went to the cot and laid down and slept through the rest of the day, into the night, and all the way until morning when a guard banged on her cell door. "Feeding time, human."

Neia hopped up and gave him a charismatic smile, 'If I must behave, then I will do my best to charm them as I did the crowds.' "As you wish." She said succinctly and went to the door and stepped out as it opened. She found herself standing between two massive minotaur males, each a head and a half taller than Gagaran and twice as broad. They looked down at her and snorted dismissively. She simply kept her smile plastered on her face, and when the line began to move, so did she. It took three of her steps to equate to their one, but she kept up enough that nobody could complain, all the way down the long spiral path that took the prisoners of the upper levels down below.

Down in the yard, it was just as promised, the enormous square was the size of a great theater or game field. She felt eyes on her from every direction, 'I shouldn't be surprised, most of them have probably never even seen a human before, that would be why not all of them feel overtly hostile.' She thought, when she got down to the bottom at last, she saw a few minotaurs step out of line and go to the wall as the food was heaped up in massive piles.

"Why are they getting out of line?" She asked the minotaur prisoner in front of her. He looked over his shoulder and laughed.

"Same reason you should, human, look at them. They're the weaker ones, they don't have the strength to fight, so they go hungry and dig through the dirt for scraps, some of em... they're the pets and playthings of the strong, and get food that way. Food is like coin here, you got it, you're a king, you don't, you're a slave or you starve. Do yourself a favor, become my pet, and I'll feed you, you can just do tricks for me, sit, stay, rollover, like the dogs your people keep."

Neia gave no hint that his advice got to her. "I understand, thank you for the information, but I must politely decline."

He laughed, seemingly unoffended by her refusal, in fact, he shrugged, "Fine, but I'm one of the bosses down here, sooner or later you'll have to beg for food from either me or one of the others."

She shrugged in turn and went quiet. 'Observe.' She reminded herself, some minotaurs seemed to be allowed to step a little in front of the enormous ring of prisoners around the walls. 'Those are important, at a guess, prison gang leaders or their officers, some of them are very big. OK, for now, avoid fighting 'yet', but I'm hungry so... first food, then I'll see what I can do.' She thought to herself, a number of thinner, weaker minotaurs simply flopped into the dirt against the wall, everywhere the tan stone of the prison created a bland landscape, broken only by the large pile of bread, grains, vegetables, and meat that was less than fresh all heaped into the dirt.

[Speed of Death] She uttered quietly and lowered herself into a sprinter's starting stance with one foot behind her braced against the wall, other prisoners struck similar stances, and as soon as the last guard was clear, at some unspoken signal, the stampede began.

She flashed forward, so quickly that she was sure that even without her small size, she would scarcely be noticed. Grabbed several items, but rather than turning around, she kept going toward the other line as minotaurs began to reach the precious sustenance, and pushed off one of them so that she flew clear. To their eyes, it would appear, if anyone saw at all, that she had been thrown clear like a ragdoll. She landed adroitly and slid along the dirt, still holding the prized armfull of enough to eat.

She checked her little haul with a little hint of pride in her expression as the fighting ensued, and she sat back to watch. Fists flew, screams echoed, and she stood munching on her apple, some bread, and low grade cheese. 'Not great, but I've had worse rations.' She thought as a minotaur went rolling away, only to be trampled as he struggled to bring an apple he'd snatched to his desperate mouth, only for a hoof to stomp his hand, break his fingers, and the victor took up the apple and ate it in front of him.

'OK, several gangs seem to be operating here, they're working together, the ones who do the worst are either on the outs with their gangs or they're new and not part of any...' She noted the relative sizes of the groups, and saw that several smaller gangs seemed to eek out an existence by trading their support or by scrounging for trampled goods, while the biggest took from the tops of the piles farthest from the dirt.

As she swallowed the last bite of what she'd taken for herself, she saw a handful of minotaurs that had sat out, come over, crawling like animals and begging for scraps. Some were clearly trading their bodies, male and female alike, in exchange for the means to stay alive another day. Others simply traded away their dignity and degraded themselves by word or posture, or by simply acting like dogs leaping for a treat.

'I see, so that's how it works, divided and rule, the guards provide the food, but the resentment doesn't go to them, resentment is focused on the gangs and their leaders, they fight each other instead of the ones in charge. Kind of clever really.' She thought to herself as she watched the winning gangs start to distribute food to their own members.

'Ohhhh, he wasn't kidding about currency, that one really was a leader, not just telling tall tales.' She thought further as she watched him hand out meat to some, bread, cheese, vegetables, or fruits to those who served under him, along the wall, some minotaurs did not elect to even try to beg.

Neia frowned, "Curious." She said out loud, nobody was paying much mind to her, thanks to the focus on the meal, she couldn't help but notice some of the gangs seemed to have far more food than they needed. "It really is currency, I'll bet it buys favors from others, and probably even with the guards themselves. None of it is all that great, but I'll bet it doesn't pay much to be a guard, so every bite counts." She mused to herself as she came to where the hungry dying sat, listless and hopeless that even a scrap would come their way.

"How come you all don't beg for food?" She asked, approaching a group of six that sat, dull eyed with fur faded and muscles all but gone.

One of them managed to utter a response with an ounce of pride, "I'm not an animal, I won't degrade myself just because I'm weak. I'd rather die. Do that if you want, human, but I'd rather die with my pride intact."

Neia crouched down so that she was at eye level with them, she met one face after the other, "You all feel this way?"

They nodded numbly.

"That's pretty strong, I respect that." Neia said admiringly and put a kind smile on her face. "I'll tell you what, how about if I get you food. But in exchange, you follow my orders. I won't degrade you, I will treat you with the respect your strength of character merits, and maybe we can make your bodies match your spirits."

The minotaur who had spoken, laughed at her. "Sounds like a good deal, but where will you get that food from?"

Neia looked around and pointed to a gang that had already eaten its fill and still had a small pile left. "Them." She said tranquilly as she pointed her thumb behind her to a small gang.

The minotaur looked at her pityingly. "You haven't a chance." He said matter of factly.

Neia didn't reply, she simply stood up and walked to where a group of eight minotaurs stood around a small pile of uneaten food.

"Excuse me." She said, drawing their attention, she jerked her thumb over her shoulder, "I need food for them, they're hungry, and you've got extra."

The group looked at one another as if they hadn't understood what she'd said, but the one in charge, a largish minotaur with thick biceps and tree trunks for legs, clearly did. "Were you brought here from a madhouse, human? We don't give out food to the weak."

"Helping the weak is common sense." Neia responded confidently. "After all, you're weak, and I wouldn't let you starve. So I won't let them starve either."

Her words were heard by more than that little group, and silence began to spread, save for hushed whispers as minotaurs spread the word that a tiny human female had dared call one of their own, 'weak'.

The bull male could not turn purple with rage, but his eyes turned red at the perceived insult.

His companions stepped away and a circle began to form. Neia crossed her arms.

"What did you say...?" He asked again, daring her to speak as steam blew from his nostrils.

"I said, you are weak, and I would not let you starve, so I have no intention of allowing them to starve either. Well, I didn't say all of that, but you get the gist." She said with a shrug and a smile.

"Trample! I will trample you! Break you! You'll crawl on broken legs and lick my hoof to get a chance to lick the juices of food from my fingers!" He roared and rushed her.

'Stupid.' She thought disinterestedly. [Speed of Death] [Strength of Unlife] [Agility boost] [Ability Boost] [Grim Hand] She activated her martial arts as quietly as she could, needlessly so, as shouting began. The minotaur behemoth swung a meaty fist in, she stepped out of the way, grabbed the huge wrist with both hands, and squeezed, turning it to powder before she used his momentum to pull him forward and off his step. He stumbled past her, and she ran behind him. A swift jump forward and she landed on his calf just behind the knee, bringing him down to his knees, she spun from there and hit him in the side of the neck with the side of her palm, he fell into the dirt, the shouting had already stopped.

'Blood... I want blood.' She thought on a loop, and her blue eyes went black as night, she howled like a hungry she-wolf that stilled all noise but the blows of her body on his own, while the roar of the minotaur had become howls of pain and he rolled onto his side. He tried to rise and her foot flew out and shattered his kneecap into pieces. The howling intensified. 'I need an example... you will do, yes, you will serve.' She managed to think with her rational mind, she was on top of him in an instant, her martially enhanced Black Paladin skills began to shatter bones with every strike. Guards looked on from the rails above as a human annihilated a minotaur.

Blood flew from his flesh where bones poked through.

And despite the bright of the day, a shadow seemed to come over the yard. She straightened up and let her eyes sweep the prison population. She put a horrible reverberation into her voice. "Everyone eats. Or nobody does." She said as she straightened up, and terror began to radiate from her like heat from a burning fire. She got off the battered body of her prey.

"He will live, if you're wondering." She said idly as the blue of her eyes began to return, then pointed to one of his subordinates, "Take what food you have left, and give it to them." She said, pointing to the starving ones. He did not even try to refuse.

He did however, hesitate for a moment. 'She's used to being obeyed.' He realized as he took a half step toward it, and then realized what he was doing. No sooner than he hesitated, then he felt knives scraping his nerves as killing intent beat down on him. He resumed his obedience, and carried food to the starving.

The ones seated there, eagerly began to eat it, but it wasn't at the one handing it to them that they looked, nor even to the meat or cheese or bread that was put into their desperate hands. They looked at the impossible monster who gave the impossible order.

Neia inhaled deeply, 'Father, grant me the wisdom to work your will, even behind walls of stone.' She prayed quietly and then gestured dramatically, "It is not just that any should go hungry while there is food that can be shared! It is not just that even those guilty of the sin of weakness, be destroyed while they can still find their strength! Are you mere beasts, snapping and scrapping in the dirt! Where is your pride?! Where is your justice?! If you do not have it, then I will bring it to you, even if I must beat it into your flesh. Everyone who has eaten nothing, will now get something! Whether it is be them..." she gestured to the hungry who were getting their first meal in some time, "or him," she pointed to the one she'd broken, "or her," she pointed to a minotaur female that had a loaf of bread in hand that was given by a behemoth of a male, "or whether it be him." She pointed to the giant minotaur who stood a head and a half taller than all the others around him, and twice as wide to boot.

"That is how it will be, and it will be no other way!" She balled her fists up and put them on her hips.

"Bold claim, little human. Bold claim." The behemoth uttered, and stepped away from the female.

'So, he's of true courage, not cowed as easily as others.' She thought to herself.

"Bold or not, it is a true one." She asserted, looking up into his eyes with her restored bright blue.

"I am Mu'Ulm, Chief of the Horn Breakers. Destroyer of villages, breaker of horns, bane of nobles. And I say that your way isn't how it will be." He snorted like a bull and his eyes started to go red, killing intent flew from him like a storm and engulfed the Black Paladin.

Neia simply waited, it redoubled, but she felt nothing. She made an elaborate act of yawning in his face. "There's nothing to that, you know. I've felt much, much worse. Even the Elf King had more than you do."

He looked at her at a loss, as if he couldn't understand what had gone wrong.

She filled the gap with her response, "I am General Neia Baraja, destroyer of cities, breaker of breakers, terror of kings, and loyal servant of His Majesty the Sorcerer King, ruler of the Sorcerous Empire."

She smirked, "You break villages, I break cities. It will be 'my' way. By the way, you say you're horn breakers, but... your horns are intact...?" She asked.

He looked at her quietly for a moment, then answered, "We break the horns of our enemies."

"I see, I take it horns have some significance to minotaurs?" She asked with such obvious ignorance in her voice that he could not help but answer her, aghast.

"Of course they do! A horn is the symbol of a male minotaur's virility and power! They're... gah... I have heard that human males are very fond of their genitals, is this true? If so, yes, it is like that."

"Oh." Neia said shortly, trying very hard not to blush.

"But back to it... it will not be as you say, I am a king in this yard, and you will not change that." Mu'Ulm said bluntly, "You crushed one weakling, do not think that makes you powerful here."

"Are you the strongest?" Neia asked matter of factly.

"I am." He said proudly, holding up his long snout in a humanlike gesture of arrogance.

"So when I break you, they will all bend to my will?" She asked loud enough for the others to hear.

Mu'Ulm snorted furiously. "I will punish you severely for that!"

"You will try, and you will fail." She said coldly, she felt her bloodlust rising, her entire body screaming at her to tear the one in front of her apart, but she held back, causing a faint trembling to begin.

A trembling Mu'Ulm mistook for fear.

"Seven paces for formal fighting here, you?" He asked eagerly.

"Five, probably because we are short." She laughed at the humor, and drew some laughter in turn at the self effacing manner she displayed.

Mu'Ulm raised his arm and closed his fist, laughter died.

"Your country, we'll do it your way." She shrugged, "It won't matter, you'll never lay a hand on me."

'OK, she's quick, and strong for something that small and squishy, but it won't matter, I'll finish this in one blow.' Mu'Ulm thought as he counted off the paces, when they'd gone their distance, he looked over his shoulder, "Someone start it."

A hoof pounded the ground three times, and on the third strike, he bellowed like the raging bull he was and charged at the little human, his red eyes glowed like coals, his fist went up on his second step, but she held her arms out as if to receive him in a joyful embrace of a long lost friend.

It was baffling, right up until he loomed over her.

Neia groaned internally, 'Big one. I hate using this power. It hurts like hell, but he'll break long before it kills me. And if my victory is that total, there needn't be another, and I can behave for the rest of my time here.' She thought to herself, and her sky blue eyes disappeared as he came near, black filled them, and he went crashing down to his knees so hard that both she and he were sure he'd cracked them.

The eager cheers of the minotaur prison population... to include the guards, stilled at the impossible. Neia folded her hands behind her back, and watched.

"Do you yield?" She asked him simply. He was trying to raise his arm, and having no luck, it was shaking like a leaf in a storm.

"In a minute I'm going to increase the pressure, and you will be hurt a lot more. When that happens, if you're not ready to yield, fall forward onto all fours, or your knees will turn to dust." She said clinically, her darkened eyes was matched by a darkened voice that was the voice of terror incarnate.

Mu'Ulm gritted his teeth against the sensation, he tried to move, his arms shook, his legs were turning to jelly.

The human with the inhuman eyes leaned close to him.

"The truth is," she said in the voice of death, "as you are, you couldn't kill me if you tried for ten thousand years. Because to win, I will destroy myself, to grant my god everything, I will rip myself apart, he is justice, and in this place of injustice... I will see his justice born. He will be crowned king in this yard, through me, or I will see everything in his way to it, ground to dust. But you fight only for yourself, your pride, and the scraps of good you can wrangle from the dirt. If your reason is hollow, your abilities will be also. You've hobbled yourself. And this is only a fragment of what I can bring down on you through the power of my divine lord. Destroying one recalcitrant minotaur is nothing, no matter how strong you believe yourself to be."

She leaned in close with the blood red glow in her shadow cloaked eyes, and whispered as if to pass a secret to him like they were children in a school yard. "Now, you will bend one knee, or I will break them both." Her gentle voice was death's whisper, and a long absent sensation swelled from its forgotten place buried in his heart. Fear.

"Are you... Kiril's angel...?" He managed to whisper out in horror.

"No... I am the Pope of Black Justice, the child of the unliving god, and as a loving child, I long to give my father a gift he will always treasure... and that gift is this world, and everyone in it. Submit... surrender... and I will see you, chieftain, made truly great. Or resist his power... and they can scrape you from the dirt."

She could see his hesitation, his wavering, his pride warring with his desire to survive, and the temptation of her promise. "My next increase will put you into the posture of a beast, and the one after that will put you at my feet, entirely, and the one after that will kill you. You are strong, you needn't prove that any more, no other here could have lasted as you have, no other could have said to me what you have said, I would not take your life if I do not have to."

She let her hands fall away from him and stepped back. He could hear her counting down the seconds.

'If she is not the herald of death, I'll eat my horns... she may deny it, but it is like the shaman said. Kiril's Angel can take what form she wishes, and with her comes agony to those what do not yield...' He thought to himself as the pain started to get worse.

"I... yield." He said softly, the pressure began to ease off. "I Yield!" He said louder, it dropped off more, "I YIELD!" He shouted as loud as he could, and it was entirely gone.

He was about to fall forward, his body racked with pain, only to find that, to his surprise, she caught him at the horns. "Two of you, come here, help him to his feet. He is strong, someone that powerful should not be shamed by being left in the dirt!"

He barely understood her words, but the magnanimity and respect in her voice was evident enough. "I... am your minotaur." Mu'Ulm managed to gasp out, as he was carried to one side away from the human.

"We will see what that is worth, when you recover." She uttered calmly, and turned to address the masses.


	5. Demonstration

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 5: Demonstration

_...Kirakira Prison Yard..._

'If all they respect is strength, then I will show them strength the likes of which they cannot fathom.' She thought to herself while she had all their eyes. [Endurance of Unlife] She whispered the art that would kill her sense of pain as she prepared herself.

Without hesitation she turned to her voice. The echo of every sound hit off the walls from the farthest end and back again. "I am General Neia Baraja! I am the Scourge of God! I am the bane of the unjust, bane of paladins, bane of slavers, bane of breakers, bane of the unjust living! I turn rivers to blood and erase cities so thoroughly that two stones do not stand one atop another! Nations quake at my coming and the power of my divine father has crushed masses to the earth. I am his evangelist, I am his red hand and his weapon, no matter 'where' I am, I carry out his will and his justice!"

'Goodness knows why titles are so impressive to minotaurs, but... whatever, I'll work with it.' She thought as she got into her groove. "I see injustice here! I see plenty of food, yet there are starving minotaurs of your country! And if they go hungry while you have plenty, then I say you are a disgrace to yourselves! I say you are guilty of the greatest sin, the sin of weakness, weakness not in body, but in character!"

The shadow of her gaze cloaked the prison in darkness in the eyes of her audience, even though it was broad daylight, all they saw was dark. "You think strength is what pain you can inflict?! No! Strength is what you can take!"

The weight crashed down in front of her. 'Forgive my borrowing of your power, father, forgive the pain I must inflict upon myself, but they know not your ways. As they have reduced themselves to beasts, I must crush the divine into them by teaching them the meaning of pain, and the meaning of strength.' She prayed silently as it brought the prisoners to their knees.

"Your strongest stayed on his knees at half this, he is spared the lesson." She said as she began walking among them. "You feel... pain. Crushing weight, but this is the loving embrace of my father, the one true god, the one true king, the master of justice, strength, life, and death. This is what your strongest dealt with." She said as she walked past the groaning numbers, and doubled the pressure, almost all of them either crashed down to their bellies or to all fours.

As she moved through the wide yard, the guards watched above, unsure if they should interfere or not. "Your guards tell me it doesn't matter to them if you all die, that crime is a problem, they think your lives without worth. Is it true? Are you without worth? Or is there something of the divine in you, as there should be in every intelligent being?" She had walked part of the yard, her hand gently tracing over shaking heads and trembling shoulders.

She held her hands up, and some of her flesh peeled away in front of their eyes. "Given time, my entire body would be peeled to the bone. You would all die long before that, and would this country mourn you?! From what those who run this prison say, they would not! How strong can you be, if your own country sees you as insects to be cast off and forgotten? Or burdens to be thrown aside?! I say it is not because you are worthless, but that you have forgotten what it is to have worth at all! You have lost yourselves, if you can let your brothers starve, or degrade them for the price of their lives, I am sure that I am right. But that. Will. Not. Stand!"

As she made her way back to where she had stood, facing them all again, she began to slacken the pressure on the prisoners, allowing them one by one, to start to rise.

"Kiril's Angel..." Some said to themselves, and debate began among some about whether she was or not, it was a matter of curiosity to her, to be investigated later.

"Tomorrow, when food is distributed, nobody moves to that disgraceful pile! You are not wild stampeding cows, to rush to a scrap of grass! You are minotaurs! A warrior race that tamed the wilds to forge a kingdom! Instead, I will have the chiefs of the gangs come forward, standing behind Mu'Ulm, their strongest, and we will begin to restore you to your rightful state, and have the dignity that a line of warriors is due!"

She finished the sentence emphatically, and did not cut off the black until every face had turned down or looked away from her.

'That will do... for a start.' Neia thought to herself as she gazed upwards where guards moved on uncertain hooves.

...Menowa...Capital City of the Minotaur Kingdom...Days later...

The Ard Rhi sat on his throne and listened patiently to the ambassador before him. "...And so now we have prepared everything we require, this trial will showcase the majesty of the Sorcerer King's justice, but too, it is an opportunity for you to showcase the grandiose nature of your kingdom. Whatever the outcome, for years there will be pilgrims coming from abroad to visit the site of the trial." Demiurge said, his tail lashed behind him as he spoke in his dignified, customary fashion.

The Ard Rhi on his throne huffed thoughtfully. He was a large and broad looking creature, massive horns emerged from his head, he was a musclebound beast if ever there was one. A part of Demiurge wondered how he'd fare against the Martial Lord. At his side was a Queen no less imposing than the high king of the minotaur tribes.

"Yes, Ambassador Akrotiri advised me as such, it is part of why we agreed to host this... event, in the first place. It presents a grand opportunity. Yet it has been made a matter of some concern that we can ill contain the prisoner. An emergency message came to me today saying that she 'broke' the prisoners and has re-ordered them under her leadership." He said with his eyes blinking rapidly in a tic that suggested a level of disbelief in what he'd heard.

"Oh, is that all?" Demiurge asked as he brought his finger tips together in front of himself. "Fear not, she could be confined in an open field if her lord commanded her to wait there. She is absolutely loyal to her master."

"Even though he has allowed her to be put... through this?" The Ard Rhigan asked uncertainly.

Demiurge nodded firmly. "Absolutely. She would end her own life at his whim if he so ordered it, her loyalty is beyond question, and she has accepted that this must take place for our master's laws to be seen as universal. I give you my word, that she will not try to escape. If she wanted to, she would already be gone."

Demiurge laughed lightly as the High King and High Queen looked at one another as if each seeking confidence they lacked, from one another.

"I assure you, she is not planning an escape. Revolution, maybe. Rebellion, escape, insurrection? Never, not without her lord's order, and his only order has been to stand trial for her actions in Wheaton."

"Revolution?" The High King asked suspiciously.

"Yes, Ard Rhi Mu'fidelis. But not of the bloody sort. Our master improves whatever he touches, she, though merely human, strives to imitate him in her own imperfect way." Demiurge assured them. "If you are really concerned, we will provide some undead guards to patrol beyond the walls for additional security." Demiurge made the offer as kindly as he could, while secretly wishing he could roll his eyes at the absurdity.

The Ard Rhi and Rhigan sighed with some relief, "Yes, we will take them. Kirakira prison houses the most dangerous criminals in the Kingdom. The guards carry their fears home at night, and they spread stories to others, exaggerating those fears further. Such a gesture would provide a welcome relief to both the prison administration and the nearby town that serves it."

_...E-Rantel..._

"Are you really going to testify 'for' her?" Gagaran asked Lakyus, aghast at what she was hearing.

"I am." Lakyus said, looking up at her giant sister with a gentle expression.

"Lakyus she almost killed you!" Gagaran reminded her for the thousandth time.

"She's not being charged with that." Lakyus said calmly. "Those were accidents, no different than a stray arrow in a fight."

"They're a lot different." Gagaran insisted as she sat down in the corner booth of the bar. "How many 'accidents' will you accept from her?!"

Lakyus slammed her fist down on the table, "As many as it takes!"

Gagaran reared back, startled and looking down with unblinking eyes at her leader.

"Why?! We were at the same fight, weren't we?! You know what happened!" Gagran clutched the side of her head and began to shake. "I swear I can still hear it whenever I heft my hammer... kill... kill... kill... just an endless sea of bloodlust, like an ocean without a bottom. I hear her voice in my head in every nightmare, and in every fight since then, I can't... I can't stop myself. She did that to me!"

"Gagaran..." Lakyus reached across the table but the giantess did not take her sister's hand, nor could she even see it.

"I heard the same voice, so did Keeno, Tia, and Tina, so did that whole army, and all the elves that Zesshi brought, and Zesshi herself." Lakyus kept her hand there until Gagaran did finally see, and put her big meaty hand over the dainty one of her friend.

Lakyus bit her lip slightly and took a deep breath. "I know what happened, we all do. She never set out to hurt any of us, she set out to help... I've... seen some things. A few months ago, I was having doubts about my choice. So I went to the house where she was treated, I... talked to some of the women there, and some of the men, the elves I mean. I asked what happened in those places, I asked what Neia would have seen. Remember Wenmark? The pits? The brothels and other places?"

Gagaran nodded, "If ever a city of man deserved to be destroyed... that was it."

"Breaker schools are where overseers and breakers learned their trades, they practiced on living elves, you saw the aftermath, but I talked to the victims. I'm testifying for her because I believe she never intended to use that... thing, she used. I don't think she even 'could' until then! She never did anything like it before, she had to have a crowd physically present and hear her, remember?"

Gagaran nodded gravely, "I do. But still! It was a city full of people, whatever she saw in there..."

Lakyus slowly shook her head, "No... I'm not saying what she did was right, only that it could be understood. I don't want her to die for it, even you have to admit she deserves better than that."

_...Crescent Lake..._

Bertra stood behind the counter as the bell over the door rang for the umpteenth time in the last few minutes. She waved to the visitor. "Welcome to Bertra's Bargain Books. Are you here for one of the clubs, to browse, or for something specific?" She asked with a welcoming smile.

"Writer's club, actually." The elven man said in a quiet, polite tone as he looked around, row upon row of books lined the walls and the open space of the large room had more spaces split up with additional freestanding bookshelves.

"Back of the room, door on the right side, paper is ten sheets per copper for regular work, one hundred sheets per copper if you're doing a biography of your life under the Theocracy. What'll it be?" She asked enthusiastically.

"It's... I used to serve in the Theocracy... I... I was a slave in Wheaton... one of the last to be sold out of the breaker school there before... before the savior came." He said in a haunted, agonized voice.

Bertra felt her entire body run cold. "No charge for you! Write all that you need, use as much paper as you need, and you can store it here for safekeeping free of charge!"

"Wh...Why?" He asked quietly. "Storage is usually a silver isn't it...?"

"Not for this. Never for this." Bertra said in a vigorous tone. "The Lord of the Savior... I owe a debt to that one that I can never repay, not in a hundred elven lifetimes. The least I can do... is this, because of who the savior is to him. Maybe... maybe what you write, will help her."

He nodded, "That's why I'm finally writing it, I saw the notices you put up around the city about the Pope's trial, the request for narratives to tell the story of our lives... I thought I'd keep those memories locked away... but how can I? I can't. Not if there is a chance that it could influence those who are deciding her fate."

Bertra took up a stack of paper bound in twine and dropped it on the counter with a sound 'thunk'. "Take it, ink is already in the back, tea will be served at lunch, three others are already there but there's plenty of space for all of you. I'll send your written works off as soon as you're ready. Perhaps it will help."

The elf looked at her with some doubt etched on his face, "Will it really reach there, though? How do you know?"

Bertra slapped a hand down hard on the paper she'd just set on the counter. "It will. I know it will. I once performed a service for him, he will see if it has my name on it, and know it is meant to help the one he cares for. Go, and write with confidence!" She said urgently.

He snatched up the bound papers proudly, nodded quietly, and strode to the back of the shop.


	6. Threats and Promises

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 6: Threats and Promises

_...Kirakira Prison Yard..._

And just like that, the weight was gone. The minotaur prisoners could move again. Someone however, had clearly been disturbed early on, and over the sound of heavy breathing as the prisoners there was the sound of heavy hooves stamping on the long railed walkway over the yard. She vaguely heard the noise of shouting as she addressed those around her.

"By the way," she said in a voice as smooth and silken as a demon offering a 'good deal', "there are humans that have served under me, who stood up immediately and fought a battle after feeling what you have just now. Yours is not the only race that is acquainted with death."

"Get the human up here to my office, now!" Neia heard from above, she recognized the voice of the warden, and wondered when he'd been called for.

"I'm coming up, but send someone down to take care of that one!" She jerked her thumb over her shoulder at the one that lay on the ground on his back.

There was a great deal of hustle and bustle in the next few minutes as she strolled casually out of the knot of prisoners and made her way to the entrance of the yard.

She heard the words 'Kiril's Angel' a number of times, though it made little enough sense yet. The door to the great yard was opened for her, and in she went. She saw no reason to rush, and passed by a minotaur dressed in a white wrap with a large red dot over the center. "Cleric?" She asked as he went on.

"Yes." He replied in a huff.

"Good, he'll be fine, just needs a moderate heal spell, make sure the food isn't taken from the hungry while I'm gone either." She ordered brusquely.

The cleric was all the way to the yard before he asked himself why he accepted her order, and by then it was too late to do anything about it.

When Neia reached the top, there were two guards waiting for her, neither appeared, at least to her eyes, to be enthusiastic. She thought back to before, their steps had been crisp, decisive, and controlled. Their weapons had been stowed. Now they were out, they stayed back a few feet from her, their hooves seemed to shift whether intentional or not.

Neia slowly raised her arms and put her wrists together. "I am under your authority, use them and be at ease. By my father's will, I swear I will hurt nobody without reason."

Large brown, meaty fingers worked frantically to bring the manacles around her wrists and secure her, she felt the slickness of the sweat that already made the cuffs difficult to control.

She waited patiently with her eyes downcast. When it was done, they walked her to the administrative office where the warden waited. "Outside." He said to the guards, and Neia moved to the front of his desk.

She looked down silently, though she felt his eyes on her. When the door shut and left them alone he pointed decisively to the chains. "Those are a fucking joke, aren't they?"

Neia didn't look up, "It makes your guards more comfortable, so I'm not laughing. But... no they can't really hold me, they're just simple iron, I would have thought you'd use orichalcum, like the gates..." She blinked but didn't raise her eyes, "those aren't full orichalcum, are they."

He sighed and ran his hand down the length of his face. "Keep that to yourself, no, they're not, they're just orichalcum sheeting over very thick wood. They look impressive, which is necessary for this place, discourages escapes."

"I don't plan to escape." Neia said calmly.

"So I've heard, but what 'are' you planning?" The warden demanded.

"Betterment." Neia turned her face up to meet his, her bright blue met his hard brown, "I saw the brutality and barbarism down there, and I know there can be better!" She said urgently.

"You've been here for a day." He grumbled dismissively and held a hand out, gesturing to the prison behind her. "How do you know that, what do you know about 'why' things are this way?"

"I... listen, warden..." She asked inquisitively.

"Mu'ka." He offered out his name somewhat begrudgingly.

"Warden Mu'ka... I admit I haven't been here long. But your people are not just dumb beasts, mindless brutes... you couldn't have or hold a kingdom if that were true, no matter how strong you are." Neia stepped closer to the desk and put her hands flat down on it and leaned forward.

"Your prisoners are people too, they've lost their way..." She said passionately.

"Like you?" Mu'ka asked pointedly.

Neia's eyes closed, "Yes, like me. I lost my way, badly, more than I ever want to admit, but before I had 'these' on me," she held up her wrists to put the chains at eye level, "thanks to people who cared enough to see it happen, I was coming back from it, I was finding my way. Still am. And if your people can respect strength then they can respect that it comes in many forms."

"I should put you in isolation, a private cell with nobody around for the duration of your trial. That would be safest for me, I think. Maybe for more than just me." He said with a slow burning anger in his breast.

"If you do that..." She said sadly.

"You'll do what?" Mu'ka asked dangerously.

"I'll accept it, I swore to obey, I swore I'd behave." She said in a small voice.

"That out there was what you classified as behaving?" Mu'ka asked with an incredulous snort. "You beat one of my prisoners half to death and nearly crushed another... and most of the rest of the yard! If that is behaving, what is 'misbehaving'?!"

Her voice remained gentle, but there was a low reverberation and when he saw her eyes again, the blue was gone and in its place was blackness darker than the deepest cave, save for two dreadful red points. "Misbehaving... would be if I had killed him, broken his body, and then slaughtered them all. The urge to render blood to the world is still... it is still strong. I feel the urge to wrath whenever fighting must be done, I don't ask for it, but I have learned to help restrain the impulse for the most part. I broke one as an example, and made the rest bend to show that I could. Doing so once is enough to see peace restored."

The dark faded, and with it the shuddering he felt throughout his body with every syllable she spoke. "The one I beat will live, and because of what I have done, so will numerous others."

Mu'ka slowly found his voice and jabbed his finger hard into the desk. "Things are out there as they are for a reason, they're that way so that my guards are safe, so that the prisoners direct their anger and violence on each other and not on us who are in charge. We're outnumbered, if they turn on us, bars or no, axes or no, training or no, they will kill us all. It is only their divisions that keep us safe."

Neia shook her head, "Then you have only the illusion of safety and you create a recipe for destruction. The divisions you think keep you safe, create a cycle of hatred, your prisoners cannot read, they seem to know no other tasks or skills. They have no real sense of camaraderie, only exploitative relationships. You're promoting the worst kind of beastial behavior and creating an enemy you can't beat. Much like the Slane Theocracy did with the dark elves. Chindai Khan was inevitable, and when he had the right help, he brought a hundred thousand wrathful warriors down on Theocracy that they couldn't hope to defeat. You're making the same mistake."

"You want to do something, don't you? I can't read your face all that well, but I know that tone of voice, like when one of my twit guards asks for a day off and is going to explain why it's really all for my sake." Mu'ka said sarcastically and took a deep breath. "Go ahead, get that little speech out that you've been preparing."

Neia grinned a little, "I want to bring in my people, priests, who have trade skills, let them teach your prisoners. Time spent learning a new skill is time not spent honing their violent tendencies to a razor's edge. Allow me, for the time I'm here, to use the resources of my temples to help your prisoners be something 'other' than just beastial animals that will kill each other over lettuce someone has stomped into the dirt."

"If it doesn't work out, you can always send them packing, I promise I'll send them away, but let me be useful here, at least. If 'I' can come back from the darkness, maybe they can too. Look, make it available to all provisionally at first, then after a month, make it conditional on good behavior so they know the benefits of treating themselves and your guards well." Neia urged him as she went to the side of his desk, standing close to him, she held his doubting eyes.

"And how do I know this isn't some prelude to a big escape or something?" He asked hesitantly, she heard the wavering in his voice, and pushed. "Because if I wanted to break them all out, Warden Mu'ka," she leaned in close holding her chained wrists up, almost touching them, and putting power into her voice, "I would have done so already. These walls do not confine me, my father's order does. I am the daughter of the unliving god, I will never disobey my sacred father, if he tells me I am confined to an open field, then I will not stray, if he tells me to go to trial, well I am here for that reason. I swear in his sacred name that there is no plot except to leave this place, alive or dead, better than it was than when I arrived."

Mu'ka thought about all the liars he'd dealt with over the years, the frauds, the thieves, those who sought any angle they could use to build trust that could later be exploited, and he used all that knowledge when he listened to her, seeking any hint of deception, and found none.

"Alright... fine. You can bring in three people of every trade you want to teach, but they can't stay here, they'll have to remain in the town nearby, you'll pay your own expenses for everything, and you must have the permission of our king for their entry." Mu'ka replied with a worn out expression.

"Of course." Neia replied, "We take nothing for granted..." Her eyes went dark for a moment, and he felt a chill wind sweep over his heart, "not even life is certain in this world, for the goal of it all, is death."

Then the moment passed, and she seemed again to be a fairly short human woman, as he regained his sense of self control, and when the shaking stopped and the hairs that had stood on end, smoothed down again, he asked her bluntly, "Are you Kiril's Angel?"

"You are not the first to utter that name in my direction, but I'm afraid I'm ignorant of it." Neia cocked her head curiously, "What, or who, is that?"

He snorted hard with some frustration, "I take that as a denial, well in the stories, Kiril's Angel never revealed it until her work was done so... alright. Kiril is the god of power and death. He grants one or the other to everyone, but even if he gives the former, he eventually gives the latter. Kiril's Angel is said to come to the world sometimes and move amongst the people in a mortal body. She finds those worthy of elevation, and offers their names to Kiril."

"Interesting, and how does she make her choices?" Neia asked thoughtfully.

"How she wants. Some for their wisdom, some for their cunning, some for their strength or battle skills. Many things." He replied sagely.

"But don't you revere only strength?" Neia asked as her confusion deepened.

"Yes, because that is the surest path, we know it isn't the only one, but it is the only one that, when it is supreme, always works. Now, I saw what you did, no ordinary human could have done that. Tell me the truth, are you Kiril's Angel? I will tell no one if you are, I swear it on the life of my father." Mu'ka asked again with greater reverence in his voice.

Neia's answer held him spellbound as her words flowed as smoothly as moonlight over still waters. "I did nothing, that was the power of my god, as his evangelist, I can summon that strength of his. If I use too much, or for too long, it will rip my body to shreds until I am dead, but for a short time, I can direct it. I had... you might say, ample practice. So no, I am not Kiril's Angel. I serve only one god, the ruler of the Sorcerous Empire, Ainz Ooal Gown. The unliving lord who gave me the gift of knowledge, power, and life. All that you have been told, is true. The things I did, and how I did them. And because of that, I am standing accountable for it before the world. If sentenced to die, I die. If sentenced to a cell, there I sit. If I am given over to the demons, then I will endure until I break. If I am released, I resume my work. That is all there is to it."

"What would an army of you... do to this world...?" He wondered breathlessly.

"Build an empire that spans the world as a temple to our god, and give that to him as his due." Neia replied with certainty that he felt sure cracked the very stone behind him. "I have been building that army for years, and even if I die, my wife will continue my work in my stead. In ten years time, if this is not already the case, the Sorcerous Empire will have an army of mere mortals that could capture the world if he simply gave the command to go, see, and conquer. Even without drawing upon his impossible power, or that of his loyal servants that dwell within his divine home." Neia's smile was that of the tranquil lion, satisfied with his kill and surrounded by his pride, catlike and graceful, Mu'ka felt very much like he was being appraised, as if he were an unfamiliar novelty, or a slab of unfamiliar meat of uncertain quality.

"Go, return to your cell for now." He said with as much confidence as he could, "I will send paper and quill for you to write, and forward your request to the ambassador of your homeland before I leave for home today."

"As you like, Warden." Neia flashed him a charming smile and inclined her head politely, rattling the useless chains around her wrists as she turned to leave.

...E-Rantel...Office of the Sorcerer King...

"How are the elves responding to the news?" Ainz asked calmly to Queen Zesshi.

"Little better than myself, Your Majesty." She said with a blank face and truthful voice. "While I know your wisdom is matchless... Neia is a sacred figure, to see her on trial, held as a prisoner, it wounds your citizens greatly in the realm I govern, most especially those who were freed by her. I have received countless pleas from your grateful subjects that you release her."

"And yourself?" Ainz asked pointedly.

"Yes, given the choice, I would release her, I... understand the why, but it is a bitter drink for me to swallow." Zesshi admitted reluctantly.

"And in your lands, Grand Matriarch?" Ainz asked, gesturing to the white clad Enri.

"The humans are celebrating." Enri said bluntly. "General Neia ended many lives in your service, and the propaganda about her barely even had to be made up, this is solidifying the confidence of the entire region that you are not the evil figure that many feared, slowly at least. The celebrations are... easing tensions, but they've also allowed your investigators to find fire pokers hiding in the population, and their quiet elimination should make it easier no matter what the outcome, to continue to build trust in your rule as the rebuilding goes on."

"I see, and your personal thoughts?" Ainz asked with greater calm in his voice than Enri privately expected, only the slight movement of a single finger out of his perfect posture hinted at his displeasure.

"Your Majesty, I believe in your justice, but... I never believed in her butchery. True she got results, but coming from the class that suffered most, having been on the receiving end of those I never knew, come to kill me on my own lands in my own home? It is not easy to let go of that resentment. I believe she is guilty, I believe she deserves to be on trial, and I believe no true change can come if she is not held accountable." Enri said reluctantly. "I know how you feel about her, and I hate that my tongue must speak displeasing words but... I cannot lie to you, I am sorry." enri said quietly, and hung her head.

Ainz nodded lightly, "Queen Calca?"

"Speaking truthfully Sire, were it not known that this were your will, there would be riots in the streets in every place my people live. She's a hero to us, she's the one who toppled Prart, who beat back Astraka, most of her army came from the Holy Roble Kingdom's northern half before the South seceded. She's a legendary hero to our people and the stories about what happened in the Theocracy are widely spread. They're carried by human and nonhuman witnesses, including some of the Vines and former slaves who went west with the army after Kami Miyako fell, rather than go home to the Elf Kingdom. Nobody wants her to be guilty, let alone die. If anyone does, they're keeping that opinion to themselves."

"And yourself?" Ainz asked in the same tone he'd used with Enri.

"I stood for her at her wedding, she saved my life. She helped save my kingdom, I understand the why, but there's not a single scrap of me that wants her any other way but alive and free." Calca said with iron conviction as she folded her arms together over the table.

"Queen Draudillon?" Ainz went on, gesturing to her in turn.

"She's popular, seen as having helped avenge our kingdom, and as having saved many lives by her methods. They're not going to riot over her but... there's widespread wonder that she could be called to trial over it."

"And your own opinion?" Ainz calmly asked

"I saw a hint of what the Theocracy was doing. I don't believe she's guilty of anything but an excessive zeal for justice. If she went overboard with it, so what? I've seen worse, and she had the decency to warn those ahead of her to adjust their ways. They chose not to. As my common soldiers say... 'fuck em.' I nearly did the same in Yaksun. True, I didn't, but I didn't endure what she did. And true, I refused to hand over any prisoners to her, but I'm not sympathetic either. I'd let her go."

"I've heard enough." Ainz said noble as he held his hands out to the left and right to encompass the long table of leaders. "This is the answer to your question. Though I value your input greatly, you, like myself, are too closely bound to your own opinions. Too, you are all under my rule, it may be that she should be found guilty and executed." He paused to hold the shocked eyes of the table, then went on. "It may be that she should be found guiltless and released with an apology. Whatever the case may be, the outcome will be forever scrutinized, and your hands upon it, may cause doubt. If she is set free, let only the daft or the mad question that decision. If she is executed, then the same."

"Sire... do you not think of her as your own daughter?" King Zanac asked awkwardly.

"I do, and it is because of who she is, to me and to my empire, that she must be held to the highest standard, not the lowest. Also, if Neia is simply released, she will walk the rest of her life under a cloud of her own making even if no other ever held her to blame for anything. If she is accountable, all are. If she is not, then I am not the justice she proclaimed, and after all that has happened, she would sooner die than let that be so." The voice of the Sorcerer King was as calm as ever, yet through the little gestures, the pointless movement of a hand, the imperfect placement or needless movement of a finger, and the slight delay in his speech, spoke volumes to the observant servants, about his unhappiness over his faithful servant.


	7. Seizing Power

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 7: Seizing Power

_...Kirakira Prison..._

Neia walked in the long, slow line down to the yard below. There were no catcalls, no crude remarks, no threats hurled her way as they snaked down the long sloping ramp to the yard below. It was still somewhat shadowed as the sun had not risen high in the sky yet. But the morning was warm and the blue sky overhead was clear. She looked over the rail, food was already being piled up.

She felt eyes on her, but did not look to find the watchers. She felt no sense of urgency about it. Finally after long minutes, the prison yard had their numbers down there in a mass, and the last of the pile was topped off. As the guard got clear, she heard the call to go for the food. She put power into her voice and her eyes went dark as night. "Nobody move." She didn't shout, but still the reverberations of her voice carried to every corner of the open ground. She stepped from the wall and began to pace back and forth in front of the feast for the strong and the torment of the weak.

"Mu'Ulm, come forward, and let me see the rest of the bosses also." She said in a gruff tone usually reserved for raw recruits.

A handful of minotaurs, including the behemoth among behemoths approached and formed in front of her. "You are my officers. Mu'Ulm is my Vice Commander, and the rest of you are captains under him. If you argue with him, you argue with me." She said to the seven of them, and then turned her attention to the hundreds of prisoners. "You all answer to those captains."

She looked around, "Now, let me see those who starved themselves rather than be degraded for food." A few broke off from the wall, and she pointed to a spot on the ground a few feet to the left of the captains and their new vice commander. "Yesterday I said that strength is not what you can inflict, it is what you can endure! Many of you called them weak, but they would rather die than surrender, what is that, if not strength?!" She said loudly.

"Strength comes in many forms, some, such as Mu'Ulm, are strong of body, born larger, faster, or more dangerous than their brethren, but he surrendered to me. These," she gestured to the still evidently hungry minotaurs, "surrendered to no one, and yet they were regarded as weak not one day ago. Strength is more than just how hard you can hit! It is born of will, endurance, and can come in mind, wisdom, passion, loyalty! If a minotaur strong of body sells his loyalty for a coin and betrays his brother, is he strong? Of body perhaps, but he is weak of spirit. Weakness is the ultimate sin! And in this prison where I see those the Minotaur Kingdom has thrown away, I see sinners! Sinners who have fallen so far their own blood throws them away! But you do not have to die as sinners! You 'can' grow strong! Strong in all ways if you are willing to look past the simple strength of muscle alone and find your souls again! With that, I will help you, for that is why I am here, to spread the will of my god, the god of justice, who burns away weakness from those who follow him in the crucible of necessity and leaves only strength behind, in even the smallest vessels." She cast her eyes down humbly and placed her hand over her chest.

Then her coal black eyes wandered the yard, "Food and petty power struggles have kept you weak and sinful, given into greed or childish schoolyard antics, you destroy yourselves, that begins to end today. These, who surrendered to no one, will be the sergeants serving under my captains. They will be responsible for ensuring food is fairly distributed. If there is any cause to fight, then there will be no brawling, no wagers over food are permitted. First you eat, then those who wish to fight, will do so in duels, not pathetic brawls! This is only the first step. Show me you have taken it, and I will in due time, show you how far I will go to see you to your rightful place in this world!"

Uncertainty and doubt met her words, she could feel the spirit of the crowd, 'I will have to prove myself from scratch, in more ways than battle.' She thought to herself, 'Still, easier the second time around, Skana will ensure my letter is read in every temple, and my people will answer my call, I know they will.' A smile formed against her will as she thought of her wife, 'I wonder how the baby's doing, I hope all this stress hasn't gotten to her.'

She took a deep breath, and answered their doubts, "You will see the truth for yourselves soon enough. For now... Mu'Ulm, set your people to distributing the food, in an organized line. Everybody gets the same." She ordered firmly.

He looked at her from down his long nose, and for a moment Neia wondered if perhaps he might challenge her again, she held his eyes in hers, she sensed no violent intent, a spark, but not a violent one sat behind his gaze. And he nodded, "As you wish, Commander. But will you not take your share first?" He asked.

"No. We who lead, eat LAST. First we take care of our own, only then do we take care of ourselves." She said authoritatively.

The blind, deaf, and dumb could have felt the electric shock in the yard as she uttered that statement. It was silence below, but up above, guards murmured amongst themselves.

'I'd say this is a good start.' Neia thought with a measure of satisfaction, in spite of the audible grumbling in her stomach as the minotaurs began to line up.

Mu'ka looked down at the letter in his hand. He could hear every word she said out there. As a result he no longer saw the words as words, his hands were shaking too much. His hooves clacked against the stone floor as he paced anxiously. "Is this really a good idea?" He asked himself and looked around. The room was empty but for himself.

"I wonder what her wife is like." He mused aloud, trying to picture the one eyed woman reading this in a temple, he could only picture his prisoner's voice. "Good idea or not, I really don't have a choice. Somehow I doubt she'd believe me if I told her there was no interest in answering her call. Not after this." He flopped himself back down in his seat, and sent out a message alerting his senior of the letter Neia had written to her wife. 'If this goes how I think it will, then her words will be echoing off temple walls in a matter of hours.' He thought grimly, and then sealed it up to await the inevitable courier.

"Fuck it." He grunted and opened the divider between his office and the guard room. "Go get the prisoner, have her cleaned up, give her the uniform, and let her know to return to the entrance as soon as possible, her defense team will arrive to escort her to trial."

"Yessir." A minotaur guard stood up and reached for the chains.

"Don't bother, there's no sense in making ourselves a joke. She won't go anywhere her master doesn't tell her to." Mu'ka said with resignation.

Thirty minutes later, Neia stood naked beneath a bucket full of holes in the bottom, which she had secured to a rope that ran over a beam, which was then tied to a rock. In the bucket was water which trickled down onto her. Not far away were a pair of minotaur guards. A small wall offered some privacy, but nonetheless she felt their eyes behind her.

'Still, doesn't feel like lust, more like curiosity.' She mused as she scrubbed the dirt away from her body. "Never seen a human before?" She asked casually.

"No." They answered together. "Are you all so..." One began to ask.

"So what?" She prompted neutrally.

"Short." He finished.

She laughed, bemused, "No, I'm not especially tall even among my own people, my wife is taller than I am."

"Wife?" The same one asked, "I thought you were a female."

Neia laughed with genuine humor, her head went back as she scrubbed her hair, "Yes, very much so. I just like her instead of a man, it happens sometimes with us, though I admit I never thought that would be so for me."

"You are not bothered, with us here?" His companion asked awkwardly.

Neia shook her head, "Should I be? I rode with tens of thousands of men of many kinds of beings, true privacy was impossible, even for a General and even with a women's only bathing area. I don't sense any lust from you, somehow I think you prefer a little more meat on the bones than what I've got." She snickered a bit, and continued, "Besides, even if you did have that kind of impulse, you're no match for me, and there's nothing about my body that is shameful, it is only flesh. Who I truly am, I bare only to one, and nobody can touch that unless I let them." She said with a gentle, haunting voice as she stepped away from under the bucket and reached for a towel.

"Still, I appreciate you're here for my security, even if it is needless." She added as she dried herself off. "Now come on," she said as she put her prison uniform back on, "I'm supposed to be dressed for trial, and it would be rude of me to keep judges 'hanging' around." She grinned at her joke, the guards didn't laugh.

'I swear, nobody gets jokes. Father is right about the sense of humor in this world, I wonder if First Worlders were an easier crowd.' She thought to herself as she returned to her cell to put on something more 'formal'.

Not an hour later she was at the entrance to the prison looking up at the imposing and beautiful Albedo, and the enigmatic Pandora's Actor. Neia bowed to the Guardian Overseer. "Lady Albedo." Neia said formally. "Thank you for accepting my request."

Albedo had her hands folded in front of her demurely. "His Majesty made his will plain to me. You were wise to ask for my help. And this will be an interesting contest against Demiurge." She said with a gleam in her golden eyes.

"Eager for a challenge against one of your few equals?" Neia asked, and as if driven by the aggressive spirit in the demoness, her eyes darkened slightly and she added, "A sentiment I can get behind. But still, thank you." She said as she forced the shadow down again.

"Pandora's Actor, good to see you, and thank you also." Neia rendered a smart salute, and he instantly did the same with a dramatic flourish.

"It will always be mein pleasure to assist you meine gute frau! No other in Nazarick respects drama so much as you! I would not know what to do with myself if we could not contest against one another in our games of rhetoric!" He spun on his heel and clutched his chest as if about to die of shock, prompting an exasperated sigh from Albedo and a giggle from Neia.

"Do I need to know anything before we leave?" Neia asked as her heart quickened in her chest.

"Nothing but this, that by special request, in return for certain provisions of security outside your prison, Lord Ainz has been permitted to use the [Gate] to let visitors come see you." Albedo added casually, "Skana and Lakyus have both scheduled time with you tomorrow, but it is contingent upon your behavior today."

Neia nodded urgently and rapidly, "Yes, of course, Lady Albedo! I admit I'm curious also, to see what Menowa is like."

"Your curiosity will go unsatisfied." Albedo said, and reached into her pocket dimension, from it she drew a gag, a hood, and a set of manacles.

"Oh... right." Neia lowered her head. "I'd forgotten those... is it really...? Does my oath count for nothing?"

Albedo shook her head, "Not as much as their own fear counts for. If it matters, I find it distasteful to see a loyal servant of my perfect master, treated this way. But it speaks to the terror you inspire, and you can be proud of that." She said solemnly, "As long as the world fears you, they are free to love the one you call father."

Neia nodded, and looked behind her to where Mu'ka stood.

"My letter?" She asked hopefully.

"I called for a courier..." He began, and she shook her head.

"No, give it to them." She gestured to her defenders, "They will see it done."

Mu'ka grunted and brought it over, he extended his hand to the enigmatic and overly dramatic male figure, who took it gingerly in hand.

"It will be delivered today, meine frau!" He promised sincerely and put it into his pocket dimension.

"Alright, let's get this over with." Neia said, and swallowed once. The gag was leather with a silver strap at the front, and from the inside that would be against her mouth, there was a small finger length and finger width rod of silver.

"This goes over your tongue." Albedo said, and Neia opened her mouth to allow it to be inserted. The Guardian Overseer then went behind her head and secured the straps as one would a belt, tight against the back of her head.

Neia winced slightly as it was tightened to an uncomfortable degree. Then held up her hands, and Albedo put adamantite bands around the Black Paladin's wrists and locked them into place, with links of gleaming adamantite between the bands, there was not much to be done.

"Now this." She said, and held up the black hood.

Neia nodded, and Mu'ka, as he turned to walk away, caught a glimpse of her shimmering blue eyes, and never forgot them afterward.

The hood descended over her and was quickly bound with a drawstring behind her neck.

"Bear with it." Pandora's Actor said, putting a hand on her shoulder.

Neia nodded, unable to make another noise, she walked out, guided by Pandora's Actor as Albedo signed the release form for the day, before walking behind them to the carriage.

_...Capital of Menowa..._

'This hood is uncomfortable, but the gag is worse. I can't believe Vanysa uses these in her games with Demiurge 'for fun' what the hell is wrong with that demoness? Wait... please tell me Albedo didn't get these from Demiurge, oh dear god I don't know if I want to ask that question when I can speak again.' Neia shuddered and tried to think of something else as the carriage ate up the ground underneath them.

The chains clinked as she moved her hands around, she didn't need to see to know that Albedo was looking out the carriage window and Pandora's Actor was fidgeting and tapping his fingers on his knees, frustrated at his inability to strike a dramatic pose.

Albedo was the first to break the silence, "When we get to the pavilion, we will seat you at a table, you don't move until we tell you to, you probably won't have to say anything today. Just sit. We've prepared a lineup of people to speak for you, and we are prepared to question any witnesses they bring against you in turn. Remember, the whole world is watching this, every corner of the Empire, do not disgrace His Majesty."

Neia nodded sharply, the aura around her tensed.

"Good, I expect no less." Albedo said in a way that Neia thought was almost 'complimentary' before the silence returned.

The world had vanished but for the existence of touch... of the luxurious carriage beneath and behind her, the clothes against her skin, and chains on her wrists. Of sound, the clattering of the wheels and the noises of the outside beyond her. Of taste, the taste of silver and a bit of leather strap when she moved her tongue uncomfortably. Smell, of the leather hood that confined her.

Finally the carriage drew to a halt, she heard the door open, and the hand of Pandora's Actor found her own. Trusting to her debating partner, she allowed herself to be guided out. She stepped slowly, hesitantly. Though hooded, she kept her head held high, her back straight. 'I will not disgrace you, father.' She promised herself, closing her eyes pointlessly, glad for the moment that the hood concealed her tears.

'Skana, forgive me.' She prayed pointlessly and started the walk. She could feel the air on her skin, an open pavillion as they said, but to her it might as well have not been there at all. She could feel the stares, the eyes, hear the incantations of mages as the network of spells began that would show her trial to all the empire and beyond.

She felt the stone steps beneath her, and heard their sound. 'There must be hundreds, perhaps thousands gathered here, and yet I hear only our steps. Amazing.' She pondered, and when she heard the sound of a chair being pulled out, she followed the light pressure of Pandora's Actor and seated herself.

"All to order." A low booming voice that must have belonged to a minotaur, announced, and Neia felt Pandora's Actor help her to rise. "Adjudicator presiding. Be seated."

'No name? Just a title? Are they afraid of me, or father, or both?' Neia wondered with some displeasure. The taste of the silver on her tongue was starting to annoy her, she fidgeted, and felt a hand on her shoulder from Albedo.

"Do not move." She ordered, and Neia stilled.

Her expert hearing told her another group had entered. "The Judges." Albedo whispered, "A panel of kings and queens or the local equivalent from among the outlying nations, or those endowed with royal authority."

Neia nodded to show she understood, the sun felt warm, she moved her hands to the top of the table, clinking her chains, silence fell for a moment, and then others resumed their motion.

"We stand here today in the trial of Neia Baraja versus The People. She is charged with criminal slaughter in contradiction of her orders and the unrestrained use of her army against a defenseless population. Defense, what do you plead?"

Albedo stood up, regal and imposing, her wings folded close to her body, she smiled her sultry smile and answered, "We plead not guilty."

Neia sat stiff as a statue even though every ounce of her screamed to speak, her fists clenched for a moment, and then her hands went flat on the table.

"Your plea is accepted, then the trial will commence. Prosecutor, your opening." The voice said.

Vanysa leaned over to Demiurge, "Remember, my most amazing demon, rage is a double edged sword, show her to be a monster, and you don't need to show that she's guilty. That will be proof enough."

Demiurge smiled and pushed up his glasses, "Just like we talked about. Sympathy for the little devils, will bring down a little monster." He replied quietly, and stood up, he tugged lightly on the lapels of his suit and stepped away from his table and then before the court.

Demiurge raised his voice with confidence and carried himself with grace as he spoke, and slowly extended his hand to point where the hooded Neia sat. "Today, we try a monster among monsters. We will show, beyond any reasonable doubt, that the red hand of the Sorcerer King shed blood that should not have been shed. That she did it because she wanted to, that she did it because she hated the Theocracy so much, so deeply, that even their children were guilty, and deserving of slaughter. Moreover, we will show that she is so great a danger to the world, that she must be put down for the sake of all, as much as she must be punished for killing those poor, innocent people of Wheaton, and in the farms that surrounded the city. I will not need long arguments, only to recite her deeds, and then entrust that you will call her what she is... guilty."

Neia felt her mind screaming at her, every muscle shouted at her to pop to her feet and scream at the injustice of what she saw. 'Innocent! Innocent?! The Theocracy?!' Her breath began to come in gasps, the silver rod that held her tongue down, seemed suddenly more than an annoyance. 'Bite it in half and raise your voice, swallow the silver like you did your pride and demand that the truth be known!'

A hand held in her lap brought her back to reality, and she forced herself to breathe more evenly.

Albedo stood as Demiurge sat. Neia wished she could see the smile of confidence she knew was there. 'I don't know whether she hates me or just doesn't care about me, but one thing I know, that woman hates to lose to anyone. And that will do, that will do nicely.'


	8. Witnessing Violence

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 8: Witnessing Violence

Albedo moved in front of the table, and... keenly attuned as she now was to feminine sexuality, Neia did not miss, even hooded and gagged, the sensuality of the Guardian Overseer. She exuded desire even dressed formally without any hint of sexual intent. But if her body screamed 'lust' her motions spoke of nobility and poise. Even the blinded Neia could tell that from the sound of the firm footfalls that echoed over the great pavilion.

"We stand here today to judge the guilt of Neia Baraja for the misuse of her soldiers for the sake of personal hatred. At least in name. But there is a greater issue at stake!" She swept her arm out in front of her to encompass them all, "The question of the worth of nonhuman life itself! Had this human massacred a great band of minotaur civilians and children, why... there would not be a voice in the old Theocracy that would be raised in anything but joy. That unmournable nation would routinely pluck the very infants from the breasts of nonhuman mothers, to sell them if they're lucky, to slay them if they are not! What is the worth of your own lives, if not outrage?!" Albedo's voice was a crescendo of passion that befitted a bedroom, but stoked the fires of a whole other set of emotions instead in that fateful moment.

"We will show, beyond doubt, that every act she undertook, was driven with the desire to protect and preserve nonhuman lives from those who exploited them, and that even those who she slew, could have saved themselves, had they only abandoned their old habits... and what is more, we will show that they drove her beyond all reason, all sense, and that it was outrage, not hate... a subtle, but important distinction, that brought about the destruction of Wheaton, and all other actions. Thank you." She said, and took her seat.

"Call your first witness." The adjudicator huffed and rapped his gavel sharply on the stone bench.

Vanysa stood, "We call to the stand, Aryn Fol." She said with a voice of crystal beauty, and from the back, came a stocky human with a sloppy beard and who in general just seemed like someone who had seen better days. He went to a podium and leaned forward against it for support.

A large, double headed ax bearing minotaur approached from near the judge's seat and stood in front of him. "Do you swear on pain of Kiril's wrath, in the sight of commoner and judge, to speak the truth?"

"I do." Aryn replied in a cracked, broken voice.

Neia knew that sound very well, 'How many sound just like him?' She wondered sadly as she thought of the healing houses that, though numerous, were still too few for the influx they faced from the myriad of soldiers around the Sorcerous Empire.

"You were a soldier, weren't you?" Vansya asked, as soon as the oath taker moved aside.

"I was." He answered glumly.

"For the Slane Theocracy?" Vanysa responded, her wings folded into her back, and she took on the pretty blonde look that was the other half of herself, and even blind, Neia could feel the tension fade from the one who sat against her.

"I was." He answered with more confidence.

"Can you tell us where?" She asked as she glanced down at a document on the table.

"I-I was stationed in Wheaton, that was home for me." He replied weakly.

"And... did you have family there?" Vanysa asked with a more gentle air.

"I-I did. A wife... a daughter." He replied, Neia shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

"Are they with you now?" Vanysa asked in a hushed whisper that echoed off the pavilion's stone construction to the farthest minotaur ear.

"Th-They're dead. They died as the city fell." He lowered his eyes, "She killed them... or... her soldiers did."

Vanysa let that hang in the air, "I see, I'm sorry for your loss. Were you able to recover their bodies?" She asked softly.

"Wh-What was left of them. They'd been h-hacked to pieces. M-My wife had tried to protect our daughter... I know because... because I found my little Lysa's body beneath my wife when I m-made it home. Their heads had been smashed with a giant hammer, as if the other wounds were not enough to do the job! Were it not for being in our home, and knowing what they wore... I wouldn't even have known who they were!" He wailed in misery and glared at the Black Paladin.

Neia started to rock slowly back and forth in her chair, but did not make a sound.

"How did you survive?" Vanysa asked him gently, she drew close to where he stood, as if demanding intensity from him, and getting it.

"I fought! I fought as hard as I could! I killed two of those damn berserkers with my own sword! But... so many... so many!" He clutched his head and began shaking, his eyes went wide and shook with the rest of his body. "Someone hit me, hard, and I fell backwards, down into a well, I hit my head on the way down and was knocked out. When I woke up, the battle was over, and so was my life." He all but screamed every word but the last, which was almost inaudibly soft.

"Were they in the habit of games of torture or hurting elves or other servants?" Vanysa asked pointedly as she headed back over to her table.

"No! Lyas was a child, barely six! My wife, she was just a washgirl, spent sixteen hours a day cleaning clothes, even if we wanted to, none of us had time to go hurt anyone else!" He exclaimed vigorously.

"Can you tell us the events of the day?" Vanysa asked, "As best you recall them, please avoid speculation, tell us only what you saw."

"It was... I don't know what time of day, but it was early when we got word she was coming... we ran like crazy, I told my wife and daughter to hide when I was throwing on my equipment, that I would protect them. The streets were in chaos, when the second man arrived, covered in blood and screaming insanity through the streets... everyone panicked. I had to fight my way through crowds to get to my station on the wall. People grabbed whatever they could, and ran for the gates. I didn't think about what that meant for us at the time. When the walls collapsed almost immediately, I fell back, we fought inch by inch and foot by foot. But it was madness... madness!" He tore at his hair, ripping out several strands.

"The only good thing about the mass exit was that most of the population wasn't in the way, and for awhile... look I don't know if we could have won or not! Maybe it was hopeless... but it was a real fight! Then it happened."

He went still, as around the empire and within the pavilion, people watched a soldier of the Theocracy tell his story.

"I never felt so scared in all my damn life. I'd been facing off against two other people... but they were still 'people' if you know what I mean. Then they just 'weren't' anymore. They just kept saying... 'Kill them all. Kill them all. Kill them all...' they were slow at first, but we were too stunned to really take advantage of that, they didn't feel like 'people' anymore. They attacked again, it was insane... I saw one of our soldiers cut off a man's arm at the shoulder, only for that man to pick up his fallen arm, and then beat to death the one who had wounded him... with that same severed arm! They overran our positions, I fell back and fell back, like most of us. I would have died with the rest of my friends, but then I went down the well and that was that. I don't know what happened then." He answered, clutching the podium tightly.

"Tell me! Tell me why! Why did you do it?! Why did you... yes, we were at war! But that wasn't a war! My wife didn't do anything! My daughter didn't do anything! They just lived there! Tell me!" He screamed at the Pope and shook the podium where he stood.

"She will not answer, she cannot. Her tongue is bound." Vanysa told him, as her memory flew back to the last little 'game' she played with something like that and she suppressed a shiver of excitement.

"Let her! I want an answer! Let me have that before I go home and finish drinking myself to death!" He begged ardently, his eyes turned up pleadingly to the minotaur adjudicator.

A low huff came from the long nose, "Councilors, approach." He said, and the two legal teams came over.

"What do you want to do?" The judge asked them flatly.

The four looked at one another, "No objections?" Demiurge asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No, as long as we keep her to a few rules and keep her eyes hidden, it should be fine." Albedo said passively.

A few rapidfire whispers later, and Pandoras Actor was whispering into Neia's ear. "We are going to lift your hood and remove the security from your tongue, you may speak, but you 'must not' use any of your skills, speak slowly, few words at a time meine frau, and do not lose your temper."

Neia nodded, mute as Albedo unbound and lifted the hood. She removed the gag with the protruding silver piece, and tossed it to the table with a loud clatter. A clatter heard around the empire.

In countless towns and cities, veterans of the war who served beneath her leadership, pounded tables with fury and shouted in rage, in the great outdoor cafes where elves watched the first day of the trial, the gasps of horror resounded and were matched only by their disbelief that their savior was handled in such a way.

More bafflingly, she tolerated it, allowing the hood to be secured again without so much as rattling her chains.

"Now... speak, but slowly." Albedo said to Neia as she sat back down beside her.

Neia did as instructed, speaking few words, haltingly, lacking any of her great panache that she commanded from her audiences far and wide. "I. Did not. Want them. To die." Neia answered quietly, though hooded, it was obvious that her head was hanging. "I did not. Want any. Of that. Never. It was. Not on. Purpose. I am. Sorry for. Your loss." Clipped as it was, hidden though her face might have been, she meant it. In his wretched voice, she heard the same brokenness she'd heard in a hundred others.

"Your witness." Vanysa said in a clipped voice as she reclaimed her seat.

"No questions." Albedo said, and the Aryn walked away, as he passed, he spat crudely at Neia's head, a small glob of spit striking her hood. She felt the impact, and knew immediately what it was. Her fists clenched tight, her teeth clenched tighter, and for a moment, her body shook, before it faded as Pandora's Actor wiped the spot away, the very light pressure of his gloved hand, greater than it needed to be, as if to stroke her through her bonds and offer some measure of comfort.

Aryn walked away alone, and returned to his life to drink himself to death, and Albedo quickly, before the eyes of the world they knew, returned the gag to its place, leaving her mute again.

Demiurge traded a look with his co-counsel. They spoke in glances, 'She's low, now hit her hard, show the monster.' And Demiurge gave a subtle nod as he stood up, "We call 'Daes' to the stand." He said, and another human, one missing both of his ears and half his arm walked to the stand, made his oath to speak the truth, and stood resolutely at the podium.

He was somewhat portly, but had once been clearly more fit than he now was, his rough beard was brown and patchy as it would be with someone who had trouble shaving. His eyes were hard and cruel, but he avoided looking at the hooded woman as much as possible.

"You were an overseer outside of Wheaton, weren't you?" Demiurge asked plainly.

Neia's entire body tensed up so sharply that it could be heard with the rattling of her chains.

"Yes." He replied bluntly.

"And did you ever encounter the defendant?" Demiurge asked as he stood slowly from his seat.

"She did this to me." He held up the stump, and gestured to his ears with it.

"Tell us about it." Demiurge said commandingly.

The cruel eyes became cowardly, "We were... I was, just doing my job. Keeping the workers in line, the wheat has to come in or people go hungry, slack off on them, they slack off on that. It was my job, I was just doing my job, just following the orders I was given. I was obeying the laws of the gods and man... that's all. Then... out of nowhere, I get dragged off and thrown at her feet!" He pointed at Neia with the stump.

"She told me to fight! Told me to beat her! Told me I'd die if I didn't! I never hurt her before! I never met her before! I was just a guy doing his job and... well I had no choice! I didn't want to die! So I did what she said do! Then my hand was in the dirt, and my ears were cropped off! I howled and fell, and was dragged off... I had to watch... I had to watch while she did the same thing to all my friends!" He sounded haunted, distant, but his words reached every ear as he relived the moment of his mutilation.

"She then had Orlin brought out, and let the elves beat him to death, along with the couple who owned the estate... after that, she put what she'd cut off into bags, and sent their children to ride back to Kami Miyako with those 'pieces' of ourselves."

He went very quiet for a moment, and then said softly, "She's a monster... kill the monster..."

Neia could not speak. But she could not keep back her growl of fury, her entire body shook with rage, so much that without realizing it, she was pulling against her chains, and the links struggled to contain her.

Rage.

Rage.

Rage.

'An... overseer! An overseer! An OVERSEER CALLED 'ME' A MONSTER!' Neia's wrath formed like a volcano in her gut, the darkness of the hood over her head was all that kept the points of red from showing in the darkness of her eyes, the hand of the powerful Pandora's Actor placed firmly on her thigh, held her to her seat.

Blind beneath her hood, she still felt eyes on her, countless, staring eyes. 'No... don't... don't lose yourself... you worked so hard...' She thought, and stroked the back of one hand with the palm of the other, and relaxed her body, letting their tension ease, she began to breathe slowly and deeply, forcing herself to think of something other than what she'd just heard.

"Objection!" Albedo said sharply as she slowly rubbed at Neia's back, creating a calming effect that built with the Black Paladin's own desperate efforts at keeping herself contained.

Demiurge frowned slightly as he stared at Neia, like an experiment that hadn't gone quite the way it was supposed to. 'That should have broken her. How... disappointing... intriguing? I'll worry about that later, I will have to work harder.' He thought in his own mental muttering.

"On what grounds?" The adjudicator asked patiently.

"On the grounds that he is in no way qualified to make a judgement that anyone is a 'monster'." She said sweetly.

"Your witness." Demiurge said with the cold professionalism that told Albedo he was disturbed.

Pandora's Actor stood up and approached, "You are an honest man, are you not, mein herr?" Albedo rolled her eyes as he began his theatrics with a slow pacing in front of the witness.

"Yes." The overseer replied slowly.

"And you are diligent, aren't you? Or were, at least?" He asked as he came closer.

"Also, ah, yes." He answered hesitantly as he began to feel like a trap was closing in.

"So you diligently and honestly tore the flesh from the bodies of those who were in chains, all the time, didn't you, you and all your friends?" Pandora's actor asked in an almost neighborly voice at first, that became accusatory as he struck a pose, rigid in body with his feet together, he thrust his finger out away from his body and pointed at him.

Aryn looked around anxiously.

Pandora's Actor was not through, he closed the distance... loud, hard, heavy steps, a mere trio of them, they brought him close to Aryn, and the blank faced doppleganger leaned intimately within Aryn's personal space and asked, "Did it feel good... when you made them fear the sound of your belt coming undone...?"

"Objection! Badgering the witness!" Vanysa shouted, but it was too late, Aryn was on his feet.

Frothing with fury he said, "You're trying to make us the villains for just beating some obedience into beasts! Whatever kept them down, was right in the eyes of the gods! She cut us! She took our hands and our ears! We're human beings damn it!" And then he stopped with his mouth dropped open as Pandora's Actor stepped back and dramatically held his arms out from his body, and only the span of a hand between each upturned palm.

"The real monster." He said, and spun on his heel and pointed to the hooded Neia with a single outstretched hand.

"The monster breaker." He said with a flourish, and said with a cocky tone, "I'm done with this witness."

Aryn slowly stepped away, and he seemed to shrink in size with every step as he came to the realization that he had a very 'nonhuman' audience.


	9. Let Her Go

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 9: Let Her Go

_...Forton..._

"Yes!" Skana shot to her feet and pumped her fist in the air in the middle of the open air cafe when she saw her Neia retain control. A half a dozen people around her looked at her as if she'd lost her mind, then ignored her and resumed watching.

She sat back down, 'Neia... it's like the wall... all over again, this is your fight and here I am, far away, watching you like I did before, helpless again. But unlike last time, you won't die! You won't! I won't let you! I'm going to bring you home, it'll be my turn, my turn to save you from all this! When your moment comes, to stand before the world and defy them all... even when you can't, you can fall back on me, you'll never hit the ground again!'

_...Menowa..._

"I call Nora to the stand." Albedo said in the pronounced noble voice of a lady accustomed to being obeyed. The light echo of small footsteps echoed all the way down the long path between seats, and then at the podium stood a young looking elven woman.

When the oath to speak the truth had been uttered, she looked around nervously, she had short golden hair that barely reached her shoulder, a figure slender enough that she seemed like a sapling swaying in the wind, and gentle golden eyes that matched her hair.

Albedo stood up, and asked her, "Where were you rescued from?"

"Wheaton." She whispered in a voice that had clearly no longer worked as it once did.

"Were you a farm worker there, a prostitute, a courtesan, a servant? What were you doing in Wheaton?" Albedo asked more gently than Neia thought she was capable of.

"I... lived in the Breaker Academy... I was... 'practice' for the breakers." She croaked out.

Neia's entire body stiffened.

"What is wrong with your voice?" Albedo asked in a matronly tone.

"I... broke it. I broke it from screaming." Nora said with downcast eyes.

"Can you show us what made you scream that much?" Albedo asked.

"Will it... help her?" Nora inclined her head to where Neia sat.

"I believe so." Albedo replied.

Nora stepped out from behind the podium, and turned her back, then pulled her shirt off over her head and held her arms over her front. Audible gasps echoed up and down the stairs... these gasps were echoed in city after city, up and down, criss crossing her back... any flesh that had ever been made by the gods had been torn apart, and in its place, deep and ugly scars had ran left and right up and down, some had been healed over and fresh ones ran through old ones.

She stood there, shaking, as the ugliness of her back was laid bare. She turned slowly, allowing the 'work' of Wheaton's academy to be laid bare on her flesh.

Neia was rocking back and forth in her chair, her chains rattled as she moved uncomfortably.

"You recognize the defendant? Don't you?" Albedo asked softly.

"Not... not like that, I can't see her face, but I know who she is... I'll never forget her... not for the rest of my life." Nora's voice was scratched and broken. She looked over her shoulder at the woman she said she would never forget.

"How? How do you know her?" Albedo asked probingly.

"She broke my chains... I could hear the fighting, all of us could... we were all terrified, we didn't know who was there or what was happening, a riot? A battle? Nobody told us, why would they? I was in a room... shivering, they'd been... 'practicing' on me the night before, so that day I was on a table, barely able to move, so the teacher could give the student his 'marks'. That's their 'grades' for where he managed to hit me, to do that, they would chain us down to a wooden table on our bellies, and inspect the places where the whips struck to note how we were healing, and indicate how well their target placement for their blows had been... but then they quit, and left me there, just chained to the table as they ran away. That was when the fighting got started, and she came into... our hell. I was close, I heard what must have been her, kick the door down. Then it was my door's turn... she found me... a drooling, dirty, naked, bloody mess, chained onto that dirty wooden table... her wail... I'll never forget it... like my mother's the day I was taken from her. I saw... her... Neia's face, it changed so fast..." Nora stopped and entered a long coughing fit.

"I'm sorry, it hurts." She took a drink of water that a minotaur attendant brought to her, and after a moment, resumed.

"There was so much despair on her face, and then it became wrath, rage... so much hatred, and for a moment I thought it was for me, I thought I was dead, that she was going to be the one to kill me. Then I wasn't dead, her sword was embedded in the wood, and she braced herself against the table with one foot, and ripped the chains free after using arts I'd never heard of, she tore the metal free, and then she said something I'll never forget." Nora hesitated, looking at the hooded Neia who was slowly rocking in her chair.

"She set you free, didn't she?" Pandora's Actor said, interjecting.

"Yes! She went through the building, I heard the death screams of the students and teachers, voices I'd heard laugh over my cries a thousand times were then screaming once... then going quiet forever. That was when I knew I'd live! I was going to walk out of there! Not end up dumped in a hole to rot!" She hacked the words out with an urgent desperation, need etched into her golden eyes.

"Please! Let her go! Let her go! Let her go let her go let her go let her go let her go let her go let her go let her go let her go let her go let her go! Please let her go! She broke our chains and saved all our lives! Her priests came and gave us clothing when it was over! I was surrounded by my people again! But armed, elves bearing weapons and protecting our own but... she broke my chains! You can't take her! You can't be thinking of hurting her! She's a hero! I know some of you are saying she went too far! I know that! That's why we're here, but damn it! What is too far?! What is too far in a place like that, that does all this!" She tried to shout as she squared off to and stretched out so that every single scar in all its hideous depth was laid exposed to the countless eyes she knew were on her, and the countless eyes she had not realized were there from around the many cities of the empire.

She was breathing hard, and entered another coughing fit that was so hard that she bent forward for several moments as she pounded on her chest to get it out.

"Thank you." Albedo said in her most motherly voice.

Nora put her top back on and returned to the podium.

"Your witness." The Guardian Overseer said smugly to Demiurge and Vanysa who sat stoically and silently at the prosecutor's table.

"That was... riveting testimony." Demiurge acknowledged as he stood up, "But tell me... did you see her kill unarmed people?"

Nora clamped her mouth shut.

"I asked you a question. Did. You. See. Her. Kill unarmed people?" Demiurge inquired.

"Please..." Nora looked up at the adjudicator.

"Your answer." The minotaur said in the gravelly voice of his people.

"Y-Yes!" Nora responded.

"Did you see her accept any surrenders?" Demiurge asked.

"N-No but..." Nora responded, only to be cut off.

"Did you see her kill those who were running away from her?" Demiurge asked sharply.

"Y-Yes, but wait!" Nora tried to interject further, only to be cut off yet again.

"What did she say, that you said you'd never forget?" Demiurge inquired pointedly.

"Kill them all. Sh-She said 'kill them all.' But you can't hold that against her!" Nora hoarsely exclaimed.

"Why not?" Demiurge asked as he came closer to her.

"Because... because that wasn't her!" Nora said firmly.

"Wasn't... her?" Demiurge looked around, seeking answers and finding none.

"Yes! Her eyes were blue when I first saw them... but they changed, they turned black, endless black, and then her voice changed, that's when all the horror began, yes 'she' said 'kill them all' but it wasn't like she wanted to! That was just whatever had taken over her and she can't be held accountable for that!" Nora said with conviction, and over at the table, Vanysa smiled victoriously.

She made a brief 'ahem' noise, and Demiurge returned to their table, after a brief whisper, he returned to his position in front of Nora. "So you're saying that whatever, or whoever, was responsible for controlling that thing that ruled over her then... from the time she spoke to the end of the massacre, should be held accountable, if anyone is at all?" He asked.

"Yes!" Nora said emphatically even through her rough voice.

"Oh, good, because that's her." Demiurge casually jerked his thumb to where Neia sat, and the color drained from Nora's face.

"I'm finished with this witness, you can go." Demiurge said sadistically.

"No... no!" Nora exclaimed, "She was saving us! You can't punish her! You can't! It isn't right!" She started shouting through her broken voice and she clung to the podium as a giant meat shield of a minotaur came to drag her away.

"Redirect." Albedo said, standing suddenly and bringing a halt to what was rapidly looking to devolve in a scuffle.

The minotaur stopped in place and returned to his position a second later. Nora relaxed.

"Your voice, your scars, they could be healed with magic, couldn't they?" Albedo asked rhetorically.

"Yes, why?" Nora asked hopefully.

"So why not do that?" Albedo asked, "Why stay this way?" She asked as she came closer.

"B-Because investigators showed up... asking questions, seemed like she might be in trouble so... I left my voice and body 'unrepaired' thinking I should have some living evidence of everything. Most of the others... they didn't. They wanted to be healed. I did too but... I thought I might help her better this way." Nora replied.

"I see. And how many were there, that you know of, who were like you?" Albedo asked pointedly.

"The school had lots of us. We came and went, some sold, some broken, some died... they couldn't live with the memories, so finally free, they ended themselves."

"Do you think she was in control of herself at the time?" Albedo asked gently.

Nora bit her lip, chewing on it for a moment. "I never wondered about that, never cared, after all, I knew all I needed to know. That she ripped out my chains, set me free, and killed those who hurt me so that it would never happen again. But if you want my opinion, whoever she was in the moments before she ripped my chains off, she wasn't herself in the aftermath."

"Thank you. That will be all." Albedo smiled with seeming warmth, and Nora moved to leave.

"Just one question." Vanysa interrupted as she stood up.

Nora stopped in midstep.

"Have you ever worked with the the sick minded before?" Vanysa's question was sharply said and her demonic eyes were fixated on the woman as if she were prey, wide and staring, and it had the desired effect.

Nora wilted. "No... never." She said in a weak voice.

"I see, well as we can't very well trust your opinion on that matter, I think you're free to go." Vanysa waved her hand dismissively, and Nora's feet fell rapidly over the floor... but not to the exit, she rushed over to where Neia sat, hooded and chained, yet in the elven woman's fear was so palpable that even as she was, Neia could feel it, and rage flared up, her wrists snapped out, pulling the chains tight with an audible snap as it went taut before the court.

Immediately, Nora knew she'd made a mistake, her fearful face went pale, and she touched Neia's shoulders gently, and applied only the most inevident pressure, indicating she should sit down.

Pandora's Actor was already stroking Neia's back to sooth her, but as the witness rushed out, all Albedo could think was, "Too late, the damage is done... but it was not a total victory."

Neia missed the rest of her own trial, she zoned out completely, every nerve was dead, her brain felt as numb as if it had been boiled, she barely remembered anything the other witnesses had to say, until at last the order came to rise, and she was slowly aided in doing so by her defenders. Before the eyes of the world she knew, she was again seen walking in chains, until she left the pavilion and was assisted into the carriage.

"Hold still, mein frau." Pandora's Actor said tenderly and removed her hood, unfastened her gag, and unlocked her chains.

Neia saw the look on Albedo's face, the little frown the succubus wore told Neia plenty.

"I'm sorry, Lady Albedo, I lost myself for a moment." She hung her head as she spoke, and the Guardian Overseer folded her hands in her lap, quiet for a moment before she sighed.

"They're an effective team, they knew just how to manipulate you into reacting. On the positive side, we now know their plan. They are not going to make this a fight over the evidence. You are their target." Albedo pointed at Neia, her finger mere inches from the small nose of the human defendant.

Neia's eyes stared down at the finger in front of her. "Me?" She asked uncomfortably.

Pandora's Actor tossed the materials into a sack and set them at his feet as he spoke. "Mein fraulein is right, it is clear they intend to disrupt your mind, fill you with rage, if you are made to act as the monster they insist you are, then they will so impact how you are seen, that even if we proved beyond all doubt that massacre was not your plan... then they will think it dangerous 'not' to convict you."

"Shit." Neia frowned deeply. "I don't know Demiurge well, but... his lover has occasionally been a confidant, we're treated at the same place, she knows just what to push and how to push me."

"That must be why he chose to use her for this. Unless you can restrain your anger, you will have a very hard time in the days ahead." Albedo said with annoyance as they rode back to the prison.

"Am I lost already?" Neia asked with resignation after they rode most of the way to the prison, and she saw the walls come into view, and a death knight walk the outer grounds, 'A gift from father, to assuage their fears. Am I such a monster in the eyes of the world? Did the minotaur ambassador portray me so brutally? Or did Theocracy propaganda spread so far? How? How could they have possibly heard so many terrible things about me, so far from home, that they ask for undead guards to ensure my containment?' Neia wondered privately.

'No... do not go down that road! Don't denigrate yourself! You're not a monster, you've worked too hard to listen to that voice! You know it isn't the truth! You're neither damned nor doomed!' She snapped back at the internal argument, as if she were countering an enemy's killing blow, then focused on her colleagues in front of her.

Albedo, wholly unaware of her thoughts, responded confidently. "No. We will respond by targeting the city, and the Theocracy itself. We will show that you were pushed to your actions, and make so many cheer for the destruction of Wheaton that even if you were thought to be guilty, nobody will care."

"I... see." Neia replied, and went quiet again as they rolled into the prison. She didn't speak again until her chains at least, were resecured and she was turned over to the warden just inside Kirakira prison's entry building.

"Warden." Neia said politely.

"Prisoner." He replied with equal courtesy, "Before I take you to your cell, you have a visitor."

Neia looked up at him, "A visitor? Is it Skana?" She asked excitedly, "Is my wife here?!" She was practically bouncing on her feet.

"I don't know, long blonde hair?" The minotaur asked indifferently.

"That would be Lakyus." Neia grinned widely as her mood suddenly reversed itself, "Wait, you're allowing me to have visitors?" She looked at him, taken aback.

"Normally I wouldn't." Mu'ka said bluntly as they walked to the visitor's area. His hooves and her feet echoed over metal and stone as he led her through a series of hallways only wide enough for two minotaurs to walk abreast.

"But?" Neia asked as she craned her head up to look at him.

"But I don't sense any lies from you. You meant what you said, so I'm confident that this is not an escape attempt or anything else. So... fine, have your visitor, and tomorrow, I am curious to see what you'll do next." The warden said as he pushed open a heavy door, and waved Neia in. "You have an hour, I'll have food sent to your cell tonight. You've already missed the evening meal." Mu'ka said generously through the 'huff' like voice that showed he was profoundly tired.

"Thank you." Neia said as the door closed behind her.

A low wall and thick, enchanted glass separated Lakyus and Neia, the pretty blonde adventurer sat on the 'free' side of the room, and was quiet until Neia settled into the seat opposite her.

"Neia, it's good to see you." Lakyus smiled broadly, but behind that smile, Neia sensed a certain anxiety, it mirrored her own.

"Good to see you too, but... I'd prefer it at my home, or yours, than here." Neia looked around with exaggerated sarcasm, "This isn't exactly a hospitable place." She gave Lakyus a weak smile, and a moment of awkward silence passed between the two.

"Neia... why are you here?" Lakyus finally asked.

"I'm sorry?" Neia asked with dismay.


	10. The Plea

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 10: The Plea

"I don't understand?" Neia asked, her voice weak, hesitant, clearly displaying her incomprehension at the question.

"The King treasures you, beg him for your life, beg him to let you simply 'escape'. You can break out of here easily, we both know it, if you run east, far beyond the border, I'm sure he won't pursue you. Your wife is pregnant... think of her, think of the baby... do you really want to risk dying here? Either executed, or rotting in prison for the rest of your life?!" Lakyus's voice rose with every word, anxiety etched as if into stone, in her shining heroic eyes.

Neia gave a very small smile and pressed her palm up to the enchanted glass, and Lakyus did the same, so that only that glass lay between them and a friendly touch. The Black Paladin shook her head as she hung it, "You know I can't do that."

"Damn it Neia! This isn't a game! Are you 'trying' to die again?! Is that it?! Is this some twisted form of suicide by god?!" Lakyus burst out in anger and anguish.

"No... I... I don't want to be here." Neia sniffled slightly as Lakyus's words stabbed her in the heart. "I don't want to die... if I am sentenced to it, then so be it. Let that be the culmination of my misdeeds. But I don't want to die, I've worked so hard to get better. Sessions, talking, soothing exercises, careful monitoring of my surroundings and openness with my wife, and with friends like you. Really. Death would waste all that effort. I was lying in bed last night, in my little cot, fearing today, and tomorrow, and every tomorrow to the end." Neia swallowed and pressed harder on the glass, unable to meet Lakyus's intense expression.

"But you don't understand. I 'cannot' go. This is my duty, my responsibility. I have to be here! Even if every part of me wants to be out there!" Neia cried out with heartbreak, her face twisted as the glass cracked slightly.

"Why?!" Lakyus demanded, "Your baby is out here! Your wife is out here! Please just escape, I'll intercede with His Majesty, he offered me a reward I never claimed for a job I did last year, I'll use it for you, ask that you be pardoned or at least never pursued! You can be free if you just bust down that wall, and don't pretend you can't do that!" Lakyus snapped her jaw shut and looked at her friend, her view split by the fresh crack.

Neia took a deep breath, then another, then another, "Because! I have to be here, now, and deal with this head on because it's the only way forward! It's all that I know! Go forward! Even if it means I fall into the abyss again! I've championed His Majesty as Justice, and justice requires accountability as much as strength!"

The shining blue pools, so often considered terrifying by so many, seemed like an oasis to Lakyus, 'No wonder Skana just looks at her sometimes, get past the monster outside, and there really is a beauty within.' She thought for the first time.

"Lakyus... what would justice say?" Neia asked with a sad, beautiful smile.

"I... what?" Lakyus asked haltingly at the question.

Neia's voice became powerful, passionate, and though her hand never moved and her face never wavered, Lakyus felt it pierce her heart. "If justice were like us, sitting beside you, and I spoke of escape, I think it might say, "Neia, how can you abandon me now? Did we not walk together for a lifetime through fire and blood? Did you not herald me to the world, through good times and bad? Here, now, will you abandon me when I turn my eye on you, and ask you to stand forth for what you have said you believe, before all the eyes of east and west, north and south? Am I just a convenience after all, to be cast aside on a whim? Am I an excuse to wreak havoc, to diminish your enemies and excuse their killing?"

She blinked several times, "What could I say to that? I've lived all my life on principle! Maybe I've not been the best person, done things I shouldn't have, gone too far in my wrath... but if I who serve justice through His Majesty, run away like a coward, even for the sake of love, I will forever taint everything I believe! I'll not only taint that, I'll be spitting on the lives of everybody who died for my cause! I would wade through an ocean of blood to touch Skana's hands again but... this? I can't do this thing that you suggest. Me? Run? I'm NOT just 'Neia' I am 'Pope Neia' I am 'General Baraja' and father himself has spoken of me as his daughter, if I run away now, no matter what my reason... everything around him will be tainted forever! From the graves of those who died, to his very godhood." The anguished voice of the Pope did not waver in its commitment.

"Forgive me... please." Neia asked gently.

"Forgive you? For what?" Lakyus asked with bewilderment and awe in conflict over what expression she should make.

The Black Pope's voice was kind, even loving as she spoke, "For what I did to you at Prart, for what I did to Gagaran and all of you at Wheaton, for making you worry about me so often, and for all the trouble I put you through. You've all done so much for me, I would be dead without your support. Now here I am dragging you into one more of my messes." Neia forced a smile, "Please don't worry, while I'm here, I will make things better, and if I walk from here to the noose, or here to a prison cell... wherever I went, my life wasn't taken. It was given, please... if it comes to that... take care of my wife, my child. I never had sisters growing up, but you and CZ are what I imagine that must be like."

"They'll want for nothing, I swear it, please... just do the other thing you do so well!" Lakyus exclaimed passionately as she shot to her feet and brought her face an inch away from the enchanted glass as she leaned forward.

"What's that?" Neia asked with a tiny, humble voice.

"FIGHT, Neia Baraja." Lakyus said through gritted teeth as the glass cracked on her side from the pressure she placed on the glass.. "You're not a Blue Rose, but you're a Black One, and you've still got thorns on you to use!"

Neia's smile lit up the room. "Don't worry, I won't go quietly, father will not be disgraced, and if Demiurge wants to use me for his experiments, well I'm going to make him wait a good, long time for that!" Neia laughed deeply, heartily, and passionately, while Lakyus sat back down.

They chatted idly for a few minutes more as Neia told her stories about what she'd seen in the prison, and about her exchange with Gagaran. "Don't be too hard on her. I hurt her most of all at Wheaton, it's only natural she'd strike back." Neia said with an unusually kind expression.

Lakyus gave a mild chuckle and let her eyes fall away, "I expect no less... you know, when I tell her what you said, it's going to twist in her gut that she brought you here, even more than her time with you already does. I don't know if you're more forgiving than you've been before, or more sadistic. But at least I'll stop the silent treatment, and get Keeno to do the same. For now though... I think we're about out of time, I'd better get going, I'm arranging for rooms in town, and I need to go make the deposit." Lakyus said when she finally got back to her feet.

"Rooms?" Neia asked quizzically.

"Yes, what do you think Skana and CZ have been up to? They've been visiting temples, they predicted you'd more or less take over the prison when you got here, and would immediately... one way or another, get your priests brought in. They're both in Forton, choosing elven priests of Black Justice. CZ suggested humans would be a bad idea under the circumstances... I kind of agree with her." Lakyus said dryly.

Neia felt goosebumps on her skin. "When will they come see me?" She asked excitedly.

"After the last group arrives, probably two days, maybe a little sooner, maybe a little later. But soon." Lakyus said, and pointed back at Neia as she started to withdraw, "So behave yourself, she didn't take your 'departure' well."

"Neither did I." Neia said softly, but waved farewell from behind the glass just as the warden returned, and the door shut behind Lakyus.

"Thank you, warden." Neia replied gratefully as she returned to stand in front of him.

He grunted and huffed a deep breath, then led her back to her cell in silence. When the door slammed shut, Neia went to her little cot and laid herself down, stretched out, and fell into a slumber so deep that her last thought was wondering if she would ever wake up from it.

_...Hoburns..._

It was a beautiful day on the grounds of the great temple, the first temple to the Sorcerer King, the one personally overseen by the warrior pope, the one their martyrs fought for, bled for, and won with their own force of arms, proving their strength against the faithful of the Six. The great stones were a powerful inspiration, rough cut, unbroken, it stood to Nua as a testament to the impossible will of those who had saved her kind, and the strength of the master that she now worshipped as a god. The green grass felt good beneath her bare feet, and her black, form fitted armor was lightly enchanted to enhance her skills with healing spells and strength. On her breastplate was the symbol of a rising sun. She touched it lightly as she listened to the speaker. 'My symbol of hope... for the hope he gave me, I will carry to the world that does not yet know him.' She thought to herself as she listened to the priest, a powerfully built man covered in scars he had chosen not to have removed, speak.

"Congratulations! You have all worked your minds and bodies harder in the last few years, than most people do for the entirety of their lives. You are now 'fit' to go out and spread faith of His Majesty, the Sorcerer King, to all the far flung corners of the world. Continue to work hard! Study hard! Train hard! Remember to avoid the sin of weakness! Seek the strength of your justice, and let that carry you everywhere!"

His voice was booming and strong, standing as he was atop the steps of the temple before the three hundred priests and priestesses, who immediately let out a massive whooping cheer, they drew their knives, swords, or other weapons of choice, and stabbed at the air as if to fight the sky. Around them, people cheered with equal enthusiasm. Parents came out to embrace their children, siblings embraced siblings, friends embraced friends, but Nua stood alone.

She cast her eyes east, and lost herself in memory until she whipped her head around when a hand touched her shoulder.

The hand was snatched away as suddenly as it had reached out, "Sorry, wasn't sure if you'd heard me." A young bright eyed man said charmingly.

"Oh, Rumin... sorry, I was just thinking, you know." Nua said, and turned her eyes east again.

"I know, I know." Rumin replied with a roll of his eyes, "You never do talk about why you're always doing that. From the nights in your room, to the time in class, you're always looking east like you're looking for someone, when your nose isn't in a book, or when you're not planting noses in the dirt." He laughed at the nonjoke.

Nua shrugged. "I told you, I had some practice before I joined the temple, that's all. Nothing special about my skills, I just learned how to take hits, and eventually how to hit back. I just don't like to, that's all." She gave her former classmate a weak smile. "So where are you going now?"

"I'm going north, to Argland. I chose an escort assignment, taking a group of Red Paladins with some of the merchants here. Same assignment that started the Pope's epic journey, only longer. Maybe it will start mine too." He grinned a toothy, boyish grin and rubbed his red hair at the back of his head.

"Then we probably won't see each other again, "I chose the evangelist explorer courses, and I finished at the top of my classes. So..." She started to say pleasantly and with great enthusiasm until he interjected.

"You're going East, aren't you?" He asked sadly.

Nua smiled gently at the boyish young man, "If it matters, I did actually like your poor attempts at flirting with me, it was sweet, but it was never going to happen. We did have fun though, even if you never got answers to your questions, or the answers you wanted." She held her hand out, and he looked down at it. "Friends?" She asked.

He slowly took it, and they shook. "Even if we never meet again." He said with a weak smile. "But can you at least tell me one thing before you go?" He asked hopefully.

"I suppose I can make that my parting gift." Nua said, and then gave him a mock glare, "But if you ask that one, one more time, I really will plant your face in the grass so hard it'll come out the other side of the world."

He blushed, "Ah, no, not that. Will you at least tell me where you learned all that stuff?"

Nua felt a warmth grow in her chest for the foolish boy, an air of innocence permeated him so thoroughly that he couldn't even imagine the nature of the answer, so it took him by total surprise when the stoic Nua, who never shed a tear, who never showed much in the way of physical affection to anyone, reached out to him and cupped his cheeks in her hands, and he saw the tears spring into her eyes.

He was so surprised by the intimate gesture that he froze as if in a panic, which didn't fade when her face came close to his. Her lips didn't touch his, but she drew him down, closer to her face, and pressed her cheek close, and whispered into his left ear. "I learned it when I was a slave in Kami Miyako, from a servant of the Sorcerer King. And it was because of all my 'other' lessons in Kami Miyako, that I could never be with you the way you wanted. I'm sorry Rumin, I hoped before we all left, maybe I'd be ready for... something with someone special, but it wasn't to be. Goodbye." She said gently, and let her hands drop and she went back on her heels, and walked away without looking back.

Rumin watched her retreat, watched her walk away, a thousand little things began to click into place, 'Go after her! Go after her you idiot! Ask her to go with you! Tell her how you feel! Say something! Do something! You'll regret it for the rest of your life if you don't! Don't let this chance, however small, slip away!'

But... all he could do was watch her go, until she was out of view, hidden by the many other parents and siblings, aunts and uncles, friends and other well wishers who were embracing their graduating loved ones.

A moment later he was torn away from his frozen status by the surprise embrace of his older brother, father, and mother. They didn't notice that he was barely aware of them or their expressions of pride in him, or their praise for how handsome he looked in his enchanted armor, or how strong he looked compared to the last time they'd seen him.

'Go after her!' He screamed inside his head, but he didn't. And he would regard that as his first commission of the sin of weakness after becoming a priest, for the rest of his life.

Nua found her way to her destination easily enough, she took the chit, a simple token but one shaped from adamantite and stamped with a picture of the world on one side, and a number 'one' on the other, and entered the building she sought.

It was a single unimpressive room, with one single desk, with one single sheet of paper in the center, one single quill beside it, and one single lich seated on the single chair on the opposite side of the simple desk.

"Chit... please." It said politely, and Nua placed it into his outstretched hand.

It looked at the coin holding it up to its nearly fleshless face, and then set it down next to the paper. "You are the explorer, Nua Calen Aiwenor?" He asked redundantly.

"I am." Nua said with confidence which was greeted with indifference.

"This entitles you to only one [Gate] use, once the gate closes, it will not open again." The lich cautioned her, and turned the document toward her. "Sign here, and write your destination."

She wrote swiftly and turned the document toward the undead administrator. "Forton is the closest we can take you due to treaty. If you want to go the rest of the way to Menowa, you'll have to get there yourself, are you prepared for your journey with everything you need?" The lich asked. His face was expressionless, but she sensed his skepticism.

"Yes, that'll be fine, I'll buy supplies on arrival in Forton after I check in at the temple." Nua replied calmly as she lightly tapped her coinpurse, which was filled to bursting with platinum coins.

"Very well." The lich said, and a moment later, a [Gate] appeared.

She took a deep breath, and vaguely thought of her classmate, she looked over her shoulder once, half expecting him to burst into the door and ask her to change her mind, and uncertain about what she'd say or do if he went that far. The door remained shut, and the lich gestured to the hole expectantly.

"Sorry, just thinking of someone." Nua said, and took a step through the gate, and vanished from the city of Hoburns forever.


	11. Steps Forward

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 11: Steps Forward

_...Forton..._

Skana sat up in bed and thought about the previous day. She reached down and touched her belly with both hands, she looked down, she was just starting to show a little. "Don't worry, we'll go see her soon, mom just has a few things to do first." She got up and went to the private bath in her hotel. This at least, she could smile over. 'Thank, you, Aorli.' She thought as she sank down into the tub and savored the hot water. Hours remained before she was expected to be at the temple to send the first wave, the darkness of the earliest of early hours was visible through the skylight overhead, and she looked upward with a wave of anxiety.

"Please be OK." Skana whispered into the darkness overhead. She sighed and scrubbed her skin with the brush. Her auburn hair hung free just beyond the tub, and her eyes closed while her body was forcibly relaxed. She thought about the last bath she and her wife had shared, how she'd been relaxing just like this, when Neia had surprised her, coming in behind where she lay, and suddenly, fiercely kissing her, capturing her lips as if they were a city their lord had commanded that she seize. Getting clean had been the last thing on her mind for awhile after that.

She smiled faintly at the memory, and savored it for a long time before she rose, the water cascaded down her toned, warrior body, like some goddess of war had carved her from the wood of a white oak tree. When the water fell away from most of her upper body, she removed herself from it, reached for a towel, and dried herself off. 'I suppose I could have rung for a servant for all this but...' She snorted, 'I'll never really get used to being waited on hand and foot, I don't know how Neia has.' She thought to herself, and went to put on her clothing. When she was dressed except for the armor, she grinned and looked down at her belly, "Good thing this is enchanted, isn't it little one? You're going to be the best protected baby in the entire world." She let out a motherly laugh, and slid it on over her head, and the armor formed itself to her body.

She rang the bell for service, and within a minute or two, a young woman appeared at the door dressed in the now exceedingly popular Nazarick maid outfit design. She was slender and dark of hair, with a small nose and gentle hazel eyes surrounded by pale skin. Her ears were longer than a humans, but not as long as the longer ones of an elf. 'Half elf.' Skana immediately recognized, and smiled politely. "I'd like breakfast, something light, I've got a busy day ahead of me."

The half elf looked at her like she was looking at a goddess. Eyes open wide and staring silently.

"Do I have something on my face?" Skana asked and looked towards the bathroom, "I just bathed, I shouldn't." She moved to wipe her face clean, and the woman began to stammer.

"N-No it's, ah, you." She blinked, dumbfounded, several times.

"And I should be someone other than myself?" Skana managed a good natured laugh.

The maid blushed cherry red, "Oh, ah, no. Ah, pardon me, I don't, didn't know you of all people were here..."

"Sorry, I'll send word to you next time." Skana winked her only eye as she teased the flustered woman, and laughed mildly as the woman grew even more flustered. "Relax, it's fine, except for my stomach." A faint growl came from her belly. "See? Could you help this hungry warrior out?" She asked with a pleasant and much amused smile on her face as the maid recovered.

"Of course! I'll see to it immediately!" She said enthusiastically and rushed off as fast as she could move down the hall.

Skana scratched her head... "OK, enthusiastic but... I didn't even get to hear what they have. Ah well, anything is fine, damn sure to be better than field rations."

She shrugged, took up her sword belt, and put it on. The belt look she used was one further back than it had been a few weeks before. Skana felt a little frown form as she looked down. "Well damn, I suppose I should get used to that. Probably going to be a few notches further back before you get here, huh? I wonder if you'll have my skill with a sword, or if you'll prefer your other mother's bow?"

She dismissed the idle thought and armed herself with her knives, and looked into the tall mirror, "Still look good though." She looked herself over in an idle moment of vanity as she bound her hair into a ponytail behind her head, and finished just as the flustered half elven maid returned to her door.

Skana opened the door and the maid scurried in with a tray which she carried quickly to the table, "I have some local fruits, some oatmeal, some eggs and toast, and some juice for you, Lady Skana." She shot the words out as fast as an arrow from the bow, and Skana seated herself at the table with a gentle expression.

"Thank you, you don't need to be nervous, just because it's me and you forgot to actually take my order or tell me what you had." She laughed as the maid turned red again. "It's alright, I was born a peasant, lived most of my life as a peasant, other than my decent ability with a blade and some operational skills as an officer, I'm nothing extraordinary, to be fallen all over or fawned on. I'm not better than you, I just lived differently because of someone I got to know."

The maid smiled sweetly, the corners of her mouth turned up almost imperceptibly, "You captured the city of my captivity, that's special enough that I can't help myself, My Lady."

Skana reached out and touched the maid's hand, and the maid looked down at the unexpected sensation, she turned her hand up, and in her palm was a platinum piece. The maid's eyes widened, "This is..."

"Back wages." Skana said matter-of-factly.

"But... but you didn't own me, you didn't sell me, you're one of those who freed me, you don't owe me anything..." The maid stammered out in anxious disbelief.

Skana took some of the fruit juice and drank it down, and then replied, "What happened to you and your people was wrong, it is true I had nothing to do with any part of that but ending it... but it isn't because I did anything wrong, that it falls to me to make it right. It's because I'm present. Take it, make things a little better for yourself, and thank you for the meal. From both of us." The warrior Vice Commander said, and for a moment the elf woman looked around for another person, until she saw that Skana had unconsciously rested her hand over where a child would be growing, and her eyes went even wider than before. "You're welcome!" She squeaked out, and took the tray and scurried out.

"OK, that wasn't the response I expected, nervous one, that girl." Skana chuckled as she wolfed down her breakfast far faster than she expected of herself. 'Must be hungrier than I realized.' She thought as she left the room and headed out down the long hall, the wood was smooth and polished to an almost mirror like shine, the dark wood and low light stones that were embedded into the walls only made it even brighter. Beneath her feet the wood was perfectly clean, reflecting the high standards of the hotel management.

As she passed by the front desk, she went over to the young man who was working at it, and said, "Excuse me." Drawing his eyes from what he was writing, up to her face.

"Y-Yes ma'am?" He asked pleasantly, though clearly caught a little off guard, he found his feet and kept his posture and tone professional and attentive.

"I just wanted to pass on my praise to management for the wonderful room and service you've provided for my stay, the maid, quarters, and grounds are beautiful, I've rarely seen anything like it." Skana said, and then stepped away with a polite wave.

"Ma'am! I'll be sure to pass it on to the manager, he'll be ecstatic to hear that!" He replied with a broad smile that briefly broke the stiff professional mask, and rushed off to the back as Skana went out the front door and headed out into the city.

Arriving at the temple, she found exactly what she expected, CZ... already there, in front of a large number of recruits standing at the base of the steps. The temple of Forton was an enormous building, carved of black marble with smooth columns beside the entrance. All three sides around the entrance were open areas of grass that contained specialized training fields where experienced Red Paladins or Black Justice front liners offered training in various weapon disciplines. Within, a library filled with reference material along with a rotating schedule of teachers, trained minds. But in the center was the place of worship, where the great speakers of the faith would stand before the congregants and exhortate them to pursue the best of themselves and their communities. "Weakness is the root of all sin" was etched in red marble over the large, heavy, wooden double doors.

But that was not what held Skana's eye. The chosen priests were ordered into formations, most were wearing backpacks of some sort that even without looking, she knew were filled with trade tools, there were perhaps thirty of them already ready to go.

Skana waved as she came closer, and CZ left the formation and approached her. They clasped hands and shook firmly. "CZ, it's been a few weeks, are you... are you alright?" Skana asked gently, wondering how the maid demon was coping with the threat to her friend.

The maid demon removed a sticker, and put it over Skana's belly. "Cute." She said, and Skana's lips made an O shape. "Ah, how... never mind, just never mind." She laughed, "But are you really OK?"

CZ nodded. "She is strong. You are strong. We are strong."

Skana clapped her companion on the shoulder, "From anyone else, that wouldn't make sense, but from you, well I'm glad you're coping. I didn't keep you waiting, did I?" The green eyed woman asked.

"No. Not long. They are ready." CZ said crisply.

Skana nodded approvingly, "Good, I'll take over from here, but... and this may be redundant under the circumstances... but they are all capable combatants, right? Kirakira prison is probably more or less in my wife's hands by now, but even so, these are minotaurs. And more importantly, these are violent minotaurs who respect nothing but strength. Any defeat will hurt our reputation at a critical stage."

CZ let out a very rare smile, it was tiny, swift, and vanished as fast as it had come, but it told Skana everything she needed to know. "I retract my stated concern." She said dryly and went to the stairs to stand in front of the handful of instructor priests.

Skana moved up between the two formations and with her back straight and shoulders squared, she looked out over the small group. "I will be brief, for you brave priests and priestesses need no words of mine to give you courage. Instead I will only remind you of what you go to do. You go to do what none have ever done before, in a place where few men or elves have ever gone, to work among killers and bandits and others so violent and dangerous that the Minotaur Kingdom constructed a special prison just for them. Start no fights, but finish those that are started with you. Show your strength, without showing off, teach those you can, so that they may learn how variable strength can be, your Pope will be there, with watching eyes, as she faces a fate all her own, a fate brought to her, because of what she did, in response to what happened to many of you. Do not shame her, or yourselves. Set an example that all those after you, will struggle to live up to. Now, when the gate opens, go forward one at a time, and know that I send you out as dragons among the wolves."

The uniform sound of fists striking breastplates in solid salute, hit her ears and pride swelled in her breast for the elven priests. A look at their faces and Skana understood CZ's smile. They had hard, firm eyes, their fists were clearly strong, they stood with the confidence that comes only from victory in war. 'I think I pity any crude minotaur bandit, who thinks to triumph over this lot.' She kept the smile from her face, and locked it down to her heart as the gate opened and the priests lined up.

As they did so, a young priestess approached from out the double doors of the temple. "Ma'am." She said, and Skana turned to look up and see who had spoken.

"Yes?" Skana asked curiously. It was a diminutive young woman, slight of build, but confident sounding and confident looking, with blonde hair and a small, modest bust, but pretty, kind eyes with a setting sun on the center of her armor.

"My name is Nua, I'm a graduate of the temple school in Hoburns, I couldn't help but overhear that those down there," she gestured to the line, "were going to the Minotaur Kingdom. That's my destination as well, would it be alright if I went in with them?"

Skana frowned slightly, 'OK that is an odd request that I've never heard before... but... I suppose there's no harm in it. If she has a good reason at least.'

"We don't have a temple there... yet." Skana asked with a furrowed brow, "What takes you that way?"

"I graduated with an explorer classification, and wanted to go there because few had ever been. I may stay there, or I may go farther still, anywhere the faith is not, is a place I belong, in order to change that." Nua said confidently.

"I see. Well, I like the attitude at least, but that's dangerous, are you sure you can handle it?" Skana asked with concern, her green eye searching for doubt to justify denial of the request.

Nua nodded sharply, "Yes. I was taught by a servant of His Majesty the Sorcerer King when I lived in Kami Miyako. I graduated at the top of my... admittedly small class, when it came to hand to hand combat." Her expression didn't waver as she looked at the second in command of the Sorcerer King's religious leadership, and a faint memory tickled Skana's brain, of a young elven slave that attended Cardinal Raymond.

Her decision was made. "Go, get in line, and good luck out there." Skana said abruptly.

"Thank you, Ma'am!" Nua replied with a crisp salute and she trotted easily down the steps under the weight of the pack on her back, and fell into line behind the last person.

As Skana watched them file through the gate, CZ ascended the steps to address her, she didn't ask, she didn't have to.

"Another dragon for the wolves, I think she'll be fine, don't worry about it, let's go to the cafe at the square to watch the trial again. If we get another thirty tonight, then tomorrow we can go see Neia ourselves." Skana said optimistically.

CZ turned around and headed for the square, with Skana hot on her heels.

_...Kirakira Prison..._

Neia got up out of her bunk and exited her cell door when she was able, she filed in behind the nearest minotaur, there were no catcalls, no insults, no threats hurled her way that morning.

The progression down into the yard below was slow, and from the rail she could see the food being piled up in anticipation of a shameful display by the minotaur prisoners. Her eyes went black with barely suppressed rage as she remembered the animalistic behavior, the starving ones, the beaten ones, and it was only by the narrowest of margins that she kept the rumbling of pressure confined to the inches beyond her own body.

Still, her mood radiated from her as if it were heat from a flame, and despite the long line, the ones immediately in front and behind her, gave her ample space, all the way down into the large yard.

The guards looked down anxiously as a military formation began to take place among the prisoners. Mu'Ulm held position in front of a string of other minotaur bosses, and beyond them were squares. Neia waited to one side until all of the prison had formed up, a fair distance from the enormous pile of food. She was very quiet until they finished, the inky blackness and whorling void of her eyes was touched only by a pair of faintly glowing red dots as she finally chose to approach.

She stood behind Mu'Ulm with her hands at her side, still feeling naked without her bow, she mentally sighed for want of it and put it out of her head for the present. "Turn about, and face me." Neia whispered softly as the voice of loving death calling a victim into its embrace.

The massive minotaur, taller than all the others, broader, stronger, felt his heart skip a beat as he heard the sound of Kiril's Angel speaking to him.

He obeyed the whisper, and Neia snapped a salute in the fashion of her army, which he returned... clumsily, off placement and without any grace, but it was an attempt, and so she let the faults pass. "Good job, Mu'Ulm." She said, craning her neck to look up at him.

His eyes opened and closed, as the unfamiliar and unexpected praise came to him from the one who had utterly crushed him so recently.

Neia stepped to one side of the behemoth, and addressed the masses. "Behind me, stands a call to shame! A call to animalism! A call to be the base trash your kingdom has declared you to be! I say you can be better! I say that you are warriors! That you have the spark of greatness in you, that you can give life to, breath to, if only you choose to do differently than they expect! But!" She raised her hand and thrust one finger up to annotate the condition, "I understand... if there are some among you who prefer to live as beasts, who prefer to crawl in the dirt and be despised, who might think their self respect, pride, dignity, and lives, are worth as little as one extra bite of an apple or one extra piece of stale meat! If any of you want that... then please... step out of line, walk past your fellows, under the eyes of your brothers and sisters, and go take some food. Please... be my guest." She turned to one side and gestured casually to the heaping pile.

Minotaurs looked left and right as the general invited them to do as they had always done, and to be first to feed if they did so...

Neia smiled internally, every scrap of her evangelist power had been put into her voice and struck their souls with shame and pride alike. She paused, giving them a moment. "Not coming? I'll give you ten seconds to think it over!" She said in her reverberating and powerful voice. "Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two... One." She faced them again. Not a single one had moved from where they stood. Not even an inch.

"Well done! By refusing to move an inch, you've taken the first step! I knew you had it inside somewhere, Mu'Ulm, have the sergeants line up and distribute food to the rest of the prisoners, and your officers keep order, you and I will wait here until everyone is served, and then we will eat together, along with the other officers." She ordered firmly, and Mu'Ulm's orders flew fast and furious about the yard, and before long, the pile began to diminish as the food was sorted and handed out in equal portions to the entirety of the prison yard.

While Mu'Ulm and Neia watched from the sidelines, he looked down at her, "What's next, boss?" He asked as he let the last word linger on his tongue.

"After we eat?" Neia asked, "We work on discipline, your people are strong, but they're wild, when my people arrive, I'll set them to military order as much as trade skills. After that," she spread her hands open at her sides, "we do more of the same until you're restored, after that, well for some of you? I'll ask my temple to intercede and get special paroles for some where possible, and the remainder can change the country from behind these walls by teaching new prisoners. Kirakira prison will be a garden where strength and dignity are restored to your people, and with that, a renewal of your kingdom."

Mu'Ulm felt her words worming their way into his soul, and for a moment he wasn't in the prison anymore, he was seeing his kingdom through the eyes of the divine, powerful minotaur warriors in massed ranks with the steel discipline and strength of his new general, the broken and crumbled economic ruin that made plunder profitable, changed, the dangerous neighbor kingdoms like the Devor Empire, the beastmen who raided whenever their harvest of human cattle was insufficient...

He pictured them crashing to their knees on the open field, the shock and fear on their faces, the wrath of the minotaur nation united into a fearless and world shaking force...

Then he was back in the prison, and staring down into the red points in a black void, "How large was your army, when you were becoming... yourself?" He asked thoughtfully.

"At its peak? Hundreds of thousands strong. When all the armies were brought under my personal control." Neia replied as she looked out and watched the minotaurs move patiently through the line and step aside to eat.

Mu'Ulm let that sink in for a moment. "Are they all as dangerous as you are?" He asked.

Neia shook her head, "No, I have a few unique skills that... true, make me especially dangerous, but there were some who were substantially more dangerous than I. The elf Queen, a good friend of mine, is the most powerful person outside of Nazarick in battle. The forces of Nazarick could easily crush dragons as if they were nothing, and the dangerous adventurers of our elites are not called legends without reason. Out of all those I know of personally, if we don't include Nazarick, excluding the skill that bent you to me, I would say I am perhaps... at a guess, the eighth deadliest, if that."

"I see." Mu'Ulm pondered that for a moment, "Tell me, do you know 'why' my kingdom has so many like me?"

Neia shook her head. "No clue."

"It's because of the Devor Empire. They're part of a triumvirate of empires in the center of the continent, they're huge, well organized, and wrap around part of our border. They also regularly raid our lands to use young and old minotaurs to supplement their food supplies. Most of the time, they eat humans and domesticated beasts. But when those are in short supply, they raid our homeland." Mu'Ulm replied, a low rumble of anger in his voice.

"Your people are strong, are the beastmen of the Devor so difficult?" Neia asked with surprise.

"Individually, a minotaur might equal or surpass one of them, but they are many, and their weapons and armor are better than ours, they have many mines for orichalcum and adamantite, but our best supplies are steel, so they cut through us like butter. And we are too few to field an army large enough to defeat them." Mu'Ulm explained with a rumble of anger in his voice.

Neia stroked her chin, "I see, well then there are lots of things to remedy aren't there?" She asked rhetorically. Her eyes of terror went back to him, and again he felt the pressure of Kiril's Angel on his heart, "Prove yourself loyal to me, submit to my god, my king, make this prison a bastion of my faith, and I will arrange for my many merchants to filter weapons of unsurpassed quality into the hands of all those who bear the banner of my god throughout this kingdom. Work to bring your kingdom into my master's empire, and assuming I am still alive, I will send armies the likes of which the beastmen never dreamed. Only bend to my god, and your enemies will be broken. With the blessing of my lord, no minotaur babe will find itself in the maw of any kind of beastman again. Fire, blood... and terror will spill over the triumvirate that will not be forgotten for ten thousand years. But 'only' if this kingdom yields."

Mu'Ulm felt his vision shift again, with the powerful reverberation of her voice, and before his eyes as if it were real, he beheld the hundreds of thousands she described, part of him wondered if he was seeing what she wanted him to see, if she was putting a vision in his head of a grand crusade of impossible magnitude, an alliance that brought divine wrath to the gates of hell that they'd long called their borders. 'If this is her vision... I like it. If that is what it takes... then I will do as she says. If she really can deliver what she promises.' He thought, and as he looked down into the guileless eyes of the small embodiment of horror looking up at him, he could not find room to doubt.

"Can I ask something else, Angel of Kiril?" He pushed the question in spite of the low dread he felt increasing as she held his eyes in hers like a serpent held a doomed bird.

There was a barely perceptible nod.

"Are you really guilty of the kinds of atrocities that landed you here?" He asked, quietly wondering if the question was dangerous and quietly regretting having asked it.

"That is for the court to decide… but in my own eyes, yes." She answered with a gentle and resigned voice, without the slightest hesitation.

"Good." He answered succinctly, and turned his eyes away when her gaze released him, and looked out over the prison yard.


	12. Inhuman Eyes

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 12: Inhuman Eyes

_...Kirakira Prison..._

She heard the voice before she saw its source. A humanlike one, it was vastly different than those of minotaurs, whose voices varied between a deep 'huff' to it and rough gravel.

"Two. Three. Four. What do we fight for?!" A deep, booming voice that echoed over the yard, catching many a minotaur off guard from far above.

"Justice, strength, and power!"

"To the final Hour!"

Voices echoed in response, and with every word of the cadence, the sound of heavy boots pounding in perfect unison.

Neia smiled broadly up at Mu'Ulm. "They're here."

"They move like one being." Mu'Ulm said as if he didn't understand his own words.

"Yes, that is what we call 'discipline' we are one, to fight one, is to fight all, to fight all, is to die." Neia said with a voice thick with pride. "Excuse me." She said to him and while the rest of the minotaurs in the yard watched the unprecedented scene of thirty elven warriors in runecrafted armor and bearing on their backs the tools of their trades, descending the low winding path in a light shuffle that pounded the surface under their feet as if they were angry at it.

When they reached the yard below, Neia had moved herself into position, her hands stiff at her sides and her back straight, the assembly of priests and priestesses moved in a perfectly straight double line, made a perfect ninety degree turn, and lined themselves up in front of the waiting pope, with a single man beside them who was evidently in charge.

When he was aligned with her, he shouted orders, "Marktime! March!" The formation began to pound their feet in place as if intending to go forward, before he shouted a sudden 'Halt! Right! Face!" In like rhythm they turned as one and stared in icy silence over the now silent prison yard.

The man in charge faced Neia and rendered his salute. "First Prison Expedition Unit, reporting!" He snapped out.

Neia returned the gesture, and though she tried to keep her face stiff, when she saw who was escorting the thirty, she couldn't keep her eyes from welling up and a smile off her face.

"Robel... by god it's been forever... I never thought you'd be here of all places." She said with barely suppressed excitement.

He smirked slightly, "I could say the same about you, ma'am. But here we both are." His face turned grave, "Are you alright? I've been worried about you, the entire Northern Holy Kingdom is, I got here by interceding with Her Majesty to intercede with His Majesty to show up first, I won't be staying, I'll be working in town for a few weeks to get the administrative side of things in order, it isn't much but we figured you'd like to see a friendly face after everything."

"You thought right." Neia said with a weary voice, "Let me say a few words, then let them get started."

"As you will it, My Pope." Robel said in the same boyish grin she remembered, it took every ounce of her being not to hug him as goosebumps rose and her flesh tensed.

The moment broke when he moved aside and went to stand behind the formation.

'Thank you, father, for letting me have this... I know you have not forgotten me.' Neia thought and closed her eyes for a moment.

When they opened, she opened them with the darkness and red points to meet their faces. A few, stirred vague memories, which she all but clung to as they were likely rescues from the darker times, but not a one, rigid stone expressions or not, did not have the shining eyes of absolute devotion in their heads, locked onto the Black Paladin.

"Welcome, to Kirakira prison. Where the ones the Minotaur Kingdom has thrown away, are left to rot in the dirt. You have two jobs while you're here. You will spread the word and will of His Majesty," she paused, and in the gap there was a powerful uniform shout.

"Our divine lord!" They called out as one.

Neia moved on seamlessly, "and to ensure that those within these prison walls, can thrive on honest labor 'outside' these walls. From here will begin a great genesis, a renewal of life, a renewal of hope, a renewal of a chaotic and undisciplined land. You are my gardners, this is your soil, they are your seeds. Nurture them, be yourselves at your best, and our lord will take pride in you. Now fall out, and go set yourself up at one of the prison walls, tools of the trade stay with you unless it has to be assembled, otherwise just leave it here, nobody will take or damage anything, I promise."

From where he stood, Mu'Ulm could hear it all, but what most struck him... other than the absolute devotion and uniform discipline, was the brief flash of a sadistic smile on the face of the human who had defeated him. It was there, and then it was gone. 'I have seen that look before, perhaps even worn it... but never worn it so well or naturally. She may not be able to promise nobody will take or damage anything, but she can probably promise it won't happen twice.'

"Mu'Ulm over there, is my right hand within these walls, if he needs anything, help him, within reason, if you have doubts, come to me. But... I may be a bit busy, what with my life being on the line and all." Neia managed a self deprecating laugh, it found no companions and the looks she drew were etched with worry.

"Just go, get to work, I'll see to the prisoners." Neia said as she rolled her eyes. 'Seriously... even my own followers don't laugh at my jokes. Ugh, what is wrong with people?' She wondered with annoyance as she returned to Mu'Ulm, with Robel following close behind her.

She pointed to where the rest of the prisoners occupied themselves, "Mu'Ulm, have them gather, Robel, go with him and explain things. Oh, and one more thing I forgot to mention," she glanced over her shoulder at Robel, "start setting aside coppers and silvers, the students who study these trades, will be paid for their work, the temple... once it is built, will act as a bank and a merchant outpost for the distribution of goods made here."

Mu'Ulm felt his brown eyes expand in his head as the implications hit him, implications that at best guess, the human behind her already understood.

Neia turned away when she saw Robel's silent grin of understanding and anticipation, and craned her neck up to Mu'Ulm. "You're a smart one, most would have taken a few minutes, or even a few weeks, to recognize what was happening. Mu'Ka doesn't strike me as stupid, but I doubt he'll realize what is happening before he realizes how he can gain from it. Yes, as your crafts refine and profits grow, the prisoners here will indeed become... very well off, and when we get some of your people, 'my' people, 'out' of here..." She let the words trail off in a conspiratorial tone that ended in a mild laugh.

Neia's voice went on a moment later, but it grew distant, as if she were not truly with them, as if she were looking at a world only she could see, the gentle echo of her voice like the half heard tune of a distant flute whose source was obscured by the mists of time through which only her dark eyes could see. "In ten years, just ten years, my god will be in every merchant hall, in every barracks, in every guild. In fifteen, there won't be a part of this kingdom that hasn't seen real power and real discipline... and within twenty, this entire kingdom will bend the knee, and woe to the Devor, if they come in wrath to slay the followers of my god. Because the Grand Crusade will come, Nazarick will be unleashed... it will not be to humble them, it will be to crush them, they will 'envy' the people of Wheaton, Kami Miyako, and Yanana… and my god will ascend again."

She went quiet, and the human Robel and minotaur Mu'Ulm traded a look of mute understanding across the chasm of species, that they had borne witness to prophecy.

Neia reached up and touched her forehead, she looked down and closed her eyes, then shook her head with brief vigor, "I'm sorry, was I saying something just then? I lost track of the moment. Please, go get to work, I could use a moment to myself." She didn't wait for their answer, but went and leaned herself up against a wall, rubbing her forehead as if it ached, and left Robel and Mu'Ulm to their work.

_...Crescent Lake..._

Bertra bound up the materials as fast as her fingers could move. They danced over twine the way in her former life as a cardinal, her quill had danced over paper. Her eyes were focused on the task at hand with the same zeal that she'd once turned to analyzing the 'problem of the Sorcerer King' the overlord of the kingdom which she was now a loyal subject of.

She finished quickly enough, considering that the cheap tables she'd set up for the task were now stacked with manuscripts, and 'quickly enough' meant most of the evening binding the pages and then wrapping and binding the stacks. She looked over her handiwork and wiped her brow. And though a sense of pride at a job well done washed over her at even this 'menial' task, another sense came over her, one she could not bury.

Fathomless shame. Though her shop had not been open for all that long, the former Cardinal Berenice had already filled it with even more memories than she had books. Her neighbors were friendly and welcoming, the day she'd opened, other shopkeepers became her first customers, and quickly spread word to 'their' customers about the quality of the new shop and the kindness of the new shopkeeper and her remarkable skill at preparing tea.

Those in turn had become regulars, regulars had become friends, one of them had suggested she 'rent' books on a one day trial basis, allowing customers to try it before they bought it, paying in full only if they liked it. Her little space for writing and group discussions added the sale of tea and light snacks, and she got to know even more of her elven community.

None of them knew who she was. None but Zesshi was aware that the friendly 'Bertra' was once 'Cardinal Berenice' who had spoken with indifference at best and distaste at worst, about the use her nation had made of elven captives. Thus, the shame welling up that threatened to drown her when she lay awake at night and stared through elven eyes of her own at a ceiling that stared back at her, like the abyss lay above, not below.

So when she wiped her brow of sweat from the long effort, it was a manifestation of her guilt and her atonement, the one thing she could do for the Black Paladin or the Sorcerer King. The only question was... would he heed her call, or not?

Fear of a negative response caused her to hesitate, she went and poured a cup of tea for herself, then sat down looking at the wrapped up stacks of biographies. "I just can't believe it. I just... can't." She said to herself as she sipped. "These are my friends... my neighbors..." She reached up and stroked her long ears, it had become a guilty pleasure to do that, once she'd found out that they were 'very' sensitive, almost an erogenous zone of their own, she both took great pleasure in the act, and felt a mute wave of horror sweep over her as she wondered what it must have been like to be mutilated there. "And I was party to their torment... Can I ever really make up for that? Really?" The words of her neighbors who had been slaves under the Slane Theocracy, gathered together on countless pieces of paper, in narratives that she would spread throughout the Sorcerous Empire, did not answer her.

She tensed at the lack of answer, either from the works of those who witnessed and lived under her former country, or from herself, then drank down her tea with uncharacteristic swiftness and screwed up her courage and cast the message spell before she could lose her nerve. 'Your Majesty, will you spare a moment for a former Cardinal and loyal subject to attempt to help your Pope?' She asked when she connected to him.

For a moment there was nothing, then it came, brusque but royal, more noble than the typical undead or even than a legendary king, 'What is it, Bertra?' He asked her.

'Majesty, I have gathered here, numerous slave narratives, the stories of the elves that lived under my former nation, many of them include stories of their encounters with the army of Neia Baraja, or encounters with her personally. The conditions, privations, and lives they lived, may help sway public opinion in her favor. Minotaurs as I know them, have no special hatred for either humans or elves, they're not monsters, stories of suffering and the ones who end it, will stir the blood. But only if they know of those stories. I understand you can copy books with great speed, if these spread everywhere...'

She did not get to finish the thought. 'I will send servants for them right away.' He replied, 'Thank you.' He added after a moment, and a thrill ran through the former cardinal.

'It is my pleasure, Majesty.' She answered, and the spell was terminated.

She didn't wait long, a familiar face emerged. "Lady Entoma." Berenice said pleasantly as soon as the beautiful young girl emerged from the [Gate].

"Bertra." She said politely as she looked at the stacks on the three tables that had been lined up side by side. "You've been busy." Her tone was one of faint approval.

"I have to be. There is a lot to be done." Bertra replied succinctly. "Can I offer you some tea after you're finished? You were so attentive to me when I was a 'guest' of His Majesty, that it is the very least I can do to offer you some in turn when you're in my shop?"

Entoma actually stopped in mid motion as she reached for the table. "Yes. If His Majesty permits me. I will return."

She 'returned' in three quick trips, each time revealing the strength of a monster when she picked up the entire table and carried it overhead back to Nazarick. 'She could have carried all three at once, if they'd just stacked conveniently, I'm sure of it.' Bertra pondered without even bothering to roll her eyes at the thousandth minor detail that pointed out the supreme power the Sorcerer King had at his command.

When she was done, Entoma came back to the book shop and remarked, "Your tables will be returned to you when the librarian has sorted your materials for copying. Also, I am free for tea for an hour or two."

"Please, sit." Bertra said as she gestured to a small table set off to one side of the room with a set of ornate, cream colored chairs with various looping designs of vines and branches and leaves making up the backs, while the legs, far from being simple and straight, curved down and ended in tips that appeared like the roots of a tree growing out of the ground. The table, fit the theme, being of the same shade, but appearing instead to be the surface of a tree stump polished smooth.

"I see you've taken to elven culture." Entoma said as Berenice worked with the leaf green tea set, laying out small plates shaped like leaves, and cups as blue as water.

Bertra gave a small, appreciative smile in response, "When in Arwintar, do as the Arwintarians do. When elsewhere, do as they do elsewhere."

She poured the tea during the amicable silence, the gentle sound of the flowing green liquid was the only to pass between them until the tea pot was set down. "Milk or sugar?" Berenice asked politely.

"Sugar. Lots of sugar." Entoma said emphatically and folded her hands, still covered by the long flowing maid outfit, over one another demurely in her lap.

Berenice dropped three cubes and glanced at the maid demon. The maid demon looked back at her... she dropped three more, then three more, then six more, before Entoma finally nodded.

"Thank you." The maid demon said politely and began to stir it herself after taking up the small silver spoon.

"As I said, it is the least I can do, but you 'do' like sugar, don't you? Truly, would you like some tea with your sugar, is what I should have asked." Bertra laughed, and Entoma found it funny enough to share in a minor giggle of her own that made her seem very much a child, briefly raising her sleeve covered hand to cover her mouth as she did so, before lowering it back down to her lap.

"You took good care of me when I was in Nazarick... I never did properly thank you for that." Bertra said humbly, "So, thank you. It couldn't have been easy, looking after a human supremacist bigot."

Entoma shrugged, "You were polite about it. That made it easy enough. And it is my job to care for who my master says. But, you are welcome. Tell me, do you still feel the same?"

Bertra shook her head. "Living in another flesh was even more eye opening than seeing the conference, I still think of my old comrades, but there is very little of my old life that I miss at all anymore. I hope I get to see Raymond again some day, mostly I just look at those days like I look at my childhood."

"Childhood?" Entoma asked as she took a small lemon bar from off the center piece and dipped it into her tea.

"Yes, as human as you look, I know you're not one, so you might not know this, but human children go through many absurd years that the adult versions of themselves look back on with a mixture of laughter and embarrassment at the absurdity of how they thought. I wrote poetry as a girl that I thought was profound at the time. Looking back, I cringe at what I wrote." Bertra gave a shudder that was only half in self mockery.

"About every ten years or so I end up reevaluating the way I thought ten years earlier, and I find myself in the past having been at least a bit absurd. When I think about my beliefs only a few years ago, I think of that person as being as childishly foolish as I was when I was say... ten to twelve." Berenice reached up with her left hand and caressed the long elven ear, "Now I'm this, and I love the life I've built here. My neighbors and friends are almost entirely elves, though a few Black Justice humans have come by, even Cenna came in once, though he didn't recognize me. And I wonder how I could have been so stupid." Berenice let her hand come away from her ear and picked up the teacup and sipped quietly.

It was then that she noticed that when Entoma brought the teacup up, it didn't go to the 'mouth' but rather beneath, as if going under something. She looked quizzically at the maid demon.

Entoma looked at her, the chloroplasts of her mask reshaped her eyes to one of curiosity. "Is something wrong?" She asked politely.

"Maybe it was just the way your sleeves fell, but I thought your teacup didn't go to your mouth just now... I know you're not human but is your mouth, not a mouth?" Bertra asked, "Can I ask a question like that without being rude? Monster etiquette is something I don't know much about."

Entoma managed another giggle, "It's not rude, but this isn't my face, this is a bug mask, it hides my real face, which is quite different."

Bertra took that in silence. "Could I... could I see?"

Entoma thought that over for a moment, "There is no rule against it. But are you sure you want to?"

Bertra's silence followed and her hands shook as she laid them together and entwined her fingers one between the other. "I don't have a right to ask. I won't pretend I even know how I'll respond. But you took care of me in Nazarick when I was a prisoner, you escorted me through E-Rantel, and despite who I was, I never once felt the revulsion from you that I know I spent a lifetime exuding. I have tried very hard to not be the person I was, at least not those worst parts. I'd like to see the real face of my caretaker, if that's alright with you."

"Alright." Entoma said politely, and scooting back the chair, she stood up, and with her hands up, she let the sleeves fall down over her arms, revealing that they were not 'hands' at all, but more like insect legs, and then the closed over both sides of her 'face' and drew the mask away.

Bertra looked on in mute fascination as the long dark purple antennae became visible, and then as it lowered, the eight shining red eyes that sparkled like rubies in the light of the white glowing stones that lit the inner room of the bookshop. Pronounced teeth moved in and out as she spoke, and as she spoke, long legs emerged from out her back from within the maid outfit, and came around and down, holding her 'body' a few inches above the ground.

"This is what I look like." She said bluntly. "Would you like me to go, Bertra?"

Bertra's heart pounded in her chest, a mile a moment as she saw the monster form of the maid demon revealed to her. Every fiber of her being said to jump up and fight or jump up and run, but true to the courage that had also always been part of her nature, she retained her composure. "You haven't finished your tea, have you?" She asked. "Though if you have, I can pour another cup... I guess this explains the thing with the sugar." She smiled with amusement in spite of herself as she looked up at the predator, whose enigmatic face revealed nothing.

"I think I would like another cup." Entoma said simply as she finished the contents of her cup, and reached for the mask, only to be caught by surprise when Bertra put her hand over the mask Entoma had set on the table.

"I would be a bad host, and a worse friend, if my guest could not keep my company without hiding what she was. Please, make yourself at home. It might take some getting used to, but it's worth the effort." Bertra remarked, and began dumping lumps of sugar into Entoma's cup, much to the maid of Nazarick's delight.


	13. An Open Question

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 13: An Open Question

_...Nazarick..._

"Does it still feel strange to you?" Ainz asked from behind his desk as Raymond knelt in front of him. 'It sure does for me... how the hell do I do this...? I have to work harder!' Ainz thought to himself as he squared his shoulders.

'How did we ever face this one and not just kneel and swear loyalty to him?' Raymond asked himself as the noble voice and presence swept over him like the wind carrying in the salty smell of the sea into a port town.

"I admit, it does, thank you for having this in private so I would not disgrace myself at the base of your throne, Your Majesty. How you read the thoughts of your servants so well, I will never fathom." Raymond said with his eyes closed and his face downcast.

'I read nothing! This was just a damn convenience!' Ainz thought with equal parts gratitude and annoyance at the impossible perceptions people had of him.

But out loud he said, "It cost me nothing to give you this small thing, and sometimes words are better said in private, even when not shameful. I want you to understand, I am not expecting you to lie when you go on the stand. Tell only the truth, let the record of history say what it should, the good and the bad, about your people, your nation, your encounters with my daughter."

"How can you do this...?" Raymond asked quietly. "Is it because you're undead?"

"Do what?" Ainz asked dismissively.

"You call her your daughter, she loves you like a father, I had assumed you felt the same, despite your... nature, but you would really let this happen to her?" Raymond asked in clear incomprehension, his face turned to the King, "If it were my daughter, I'd do everything I could to save her."

Ainz let stillness pass between them before he answered, very dryly. "Have you not 'met' my daughter before?"

Raymond went mute for a moment, "Well... yes I have."

Ainz's answer was slow and simple, "Then you know she can bear this, furthermore, this too is a service to my kingdom, and so to me. No matter the outcome. You know, you are not the first to ask this kind of question, Queen Calca did as well. Do you know what she called Neia?"

"No, what?" Raymond asked, carefully avoiding words like 'butcher' or 'monster'.

"A human sacrifice. She asked me once, how I can sacrifice my own child this way, if she hadn't suffered enough, why I keep letting her get hurt. Believe me, I take no pleasure in this, but this too is part of the burden of rule. To ignore all that has happened, would stain her life forever, it wounds her greatly, to see those she counted allies, arrayed against her, to see one she counts as a dear friend, become a prosecutor trying to break her. But sometimes medicine hurts. She will never recover unless she faces everything, she can never really be a part of the world she helped make, unless she is called to account for how it was made. Her wife, their child to be... I do not want any of them to be ruined by this. But you will notice... she hasn't run away." Ainz raised a finger pointedly as he finished speaking.

"Run?" Raymond asked, as if he'd never heard the word before.

"Yes, if she ran away, she might be 'safe.' The Empire is very busy these days, rebuilding is still going on in earnest, I could easily excuse not pursuing her, or even aid in her escape and let her take the blame in exile. But I'll wager it hasn't even crossed Neia's mind. Because that would taint her message and myself, so she and I must collide, even if by proxy, and see what justice comes to her. I will accept whatever happens, because that is what a king must do. And I take my duty seriously." Ainz said with absolute finality.

"I understand. I will do as you ask, with or without the commuting of my sentence. I want the word spread of what really happened in my country, my testimony may not help your daughter... but it may not hurt her at least." Raymond said as he felt the sudden urge to console what was no more evidently a concerned father than an absolute monarch.

"When do I go, Your Majesty?" Raymond asked with a heavy, suddenly very tired expression.

"Tomorrow, you're here now for two reasons, first to ensure you understand that I want absolutely no shenanigans, you tell the truth, and second, because Albedo suggested that you needed to relax to be at your best before testifying, so the sixth floor is open to you, and Solution is assigned as your escort today since you're familiar with one another." Ainz said, just as the knock at the door and the voice beyond told Raymond that the buxom blonde sadist had arrived.

At a word from Ainz, the door opened and the maid entered and knelt beside Raymond with the smoothness of flowing water. "Majesty, I will make absolutely sure that Raymond is completely and totally relaxed, set at ease in every way, so that no part of his conduct reflects badly on yourself or his experience in this most august divine residence." She said with a feminine voice that gave not one hint of the sadistic nature he knew lay just beneath the skin of the maid demon.

He blinked several times at her serene and sweet expression as the Sorcerer King coughed into his closed hand briefly and responded, "Yes well, I'm sure you will, he is now in your care, Solution."

He waved them off, and Solution rose to his feet, and snatched Raymond at the shoulder, "Come along now Raymond, let's go, let's go, His Majesty is busy." She all but dragged him staggering to his feet and out the door.

'So much for that formality that she gave to His Majesty.' He thought as she pulled him after before he could even begin a proper goodbye.

The door closed loudly behind them both and he found himself again in the hallway. Her monstrous smile split her face again, "So... Raymond... how 'relaxed' do you really want to be?" She laughed when he grew flustered and turned red in the face.

Her hands went over her belly as she made a very obviously fake effort at containing her amusement, "I'm only joking of course, you may be my favorite human monster... god, that knife work... so pretty... but still! Not what I meant, and you're a bad, bad boy for thinking that. Come on, let's get you good and drunk in the baths." She said and pulled him along.

"OK, this might actually be... kind of fun." He managed to get out as he fell into step beside her.

_...Minotaur Kingdom...Town of Hillan...Near Kirakira Prison..._

Nua stepped out of the gate with the rest of the Black Justice elect, and immediately moved off on her own. The sudden appearance of a [Gate] in the midst of town was cause for consternation. The slender elven woman looked around her with two things felt to her core. Confidence, and curiosity. "So this is the land of the minotaurs." She said under her breath as she looked around. The streets of the small town were unpaved, though they had ditches dug on either side of them, hard packed dirt served as the main thoroughfare, and unlike in Hoburns, the population shared the roads on foot, she saw no evidence of carriage use. Though she saw one sizable wagon, it had no horses, instead having a long bar run between a long metal rod at the front.

She looked at that with some curiosity until she saw a pair of minotaurs emerge from a building, stand between the wagon and the bar, and start to push, they began to pick up speed, and were soon out of view, hauling whatever was in the crates that were stacked as cargo.

The buildings were made of simple wood, and none were larger than a single floor, giving the illusion of being larger than it was. Even with that, she found it wholly... unimpressive.

The sun was bright and the weather good, but all this served only to contrast the relative lack of sophistication or beauty in the town she found herself in. 'Hmpf... Crescent Lake was far more impressive, for that matter, Kami Miyako was more impressive. If this was the only sort of existence nonhumans had, I could almost forgive the Theocracy for thinking themselves divinely chosen. Not quite. But almost.' She thought dismissively, and then brought herself up short.

'No. You'll not be like that! You don't know if this is normal or not, you don't even know what they're like here, yet. You don't know what struggles may have brought them to this point, besides, they look large, strong, healthy, and you're in their country. Treat it, and them, with respect.' Nua thought as she sharply criticized herself, and wondered at her own sudden flash of arrogance. 'My time in Hoburns seems to have left me more proud than I should be.' She briefly recited the lesson of her teacher in her head. 'Pride is good, when it drives you to greatness, overabundant pride to the point of maltreatment of our neighbors is bad. It becomes a weakness, and weakness is a sin.'

She shook herself out of her reverie and stepped out of the street, winding her way around minotaurs who stared at her like she were some strange and unfamiliar beast, she found it noteworthy that though they stared at her, none were verbally abusive, cruel, arrogant, or hostile. Once she was out of the way, she pulled out her map and checked it. "OK... Menowa... not that far, but probably farther by minotaur pulled cart." She frowned slightly. "Well," she pondered aloud, "I still shaved weeks off the trip by taking that gate, and I can spread the will and word of the Sorcerer King everywhere along the way, but I guess the ones I came here with will have this place covered..." Nua scratched her head. "So..." She thought and scanned the dusty streets left and right, until she felt the tap on her shoulder.

For just a moment, her heart beat intensified insanely fast, and the flood of terrible memories that all began with an unexpected, unlooked for touch, came and flew through her mind like a swarm of angry bees, and then she regained her sense of self, she slowed her breathing and turned around, then craned her neck up.

"Excuse me, you look lost. And you definitely aren't from here." The behemoth of a minotaur said politely.

"Ah... what gave it away, my lack of horns?" She cracked a smile, and the minotaur let out a low, huffing like laugh that shook his powerful, broad, fur coated chest.

He stamped his hoof with amusement, "No, it was your height. We don't often see anyone quite as tall as you around here."

Nua stared blankly for a half second, and then let out laughter of her own. "Very funny." She bowed politely, "You're right, my name is Nua, Nua Calen Aiwenor. And you are?"

"Mu'Sula." He said and inclined his head politely as she straightened up.

"Now, you seem to be... very far from home, Nua Calen Aiwenor... very long name, that one." He said with interest.

"Most elves have longer names, to me, your names seem shorter than I am." She smirked, and he let out the huff-like laugh that seemed to be normal to their throats.

"Anyway, I'm looking for a way to get to Menowa, can you perhaps, guide me to where I can buy supplies and get a ride?" She asked hopefully as she craned her neck upward to meet his eyes.

"You're in luck, I can show you to the local traveler shop, and then I happen to be going to Menowa today on a trading trip to sell my produce, I get a better price there than here, so it's worth the time and effort. Why don't you come with me, and I'll take you for... oh, let me say..." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "five silvers, but I'll discount two if you make the trip there less boring."

"Deal." Nua said with a broad smile and stuck out her hand, it disappeared in the minotaur's grip as they shook on the bargain, "I think we're going to get along quite well, Mu'Sula."

"Me too, me too." He said, and gestured down the street, "Now please, follow me." He replied, and walked in the way he pointed, with Nua strolling confidently beside him and folding her hands behind her head as she walked completely at ease with her new companion.

_...Kirakira Prison..._

Neia was against the wall for a long time, or at least so it felt, and so she concluded by the slow track of the sparse fixed shadows over the ground beneath her feet as the sun shone down into the prison yard. She kicked her foot in the dust at last and released the grip she had on her head, then raised it up to watch the goings on. She smiled with genuine warmth as she saw what she wanted.

The instructors had taken on various students and had obviously been busy explaining the merits of their endeavors, because the minotaur prisoners were paying 'very' close attention. There were ones working closely with wood, and others working with small bits of stone, and others working with cloth, and more, and more, and more. So Neia put her hands behind her back and simply began to walk the length of the yard, watching the foundation of her plans take deep roots in the soil of Kirakira prison.

She felt the stares without looking at them. "Guards." She muttered under her breath. She walked with her back ramrod straight and her shoulders thrown back square, it was the posture of a soldier, a warrior. Every step was steady and sure as she focused on ensuring the work she'd set her people to, went on without incident.

Her focus was so intense that more than once a class paused to look and see her watching them, and so she inclined her head and moved on.

Still she felt the itch of the stares from above where minotaurs walked with traditional minotaur weaponry of large double headed axes or the occasional two handed sword, bearing the simple armor of common guards that covered their bodies from most attacks, even if it left their arms and legs largely bare. The overlapping iron plates were cheap but effective against the pathetic simple weapons that a prisoner might wield.

She managed a smile that nobody could see, 'Yes, I'm disturbing your world, no matter what happens, it will never be the same. Not for any of you. Before my trial is done, no matter what their judgement, I will have converted this entire prison. From here and the town beyond, we will convert the towns, villages, and cities. Stare all you like, it is nothing but the labor pains of a new world being born.' She thought with the joyful satisfaction of a mother feeling new life stir within her belly as it prepared to enter the world.

Neia turned her head and looked at the sky in the direction of Forton. "Skana..." She whispered, "You're out there, with CZ, with my friends, how is our child? How are you? Are you focused on work, or is my absence driving you to distraction?" She let her eyes close as she briefly indulged in the fantasy of the life she wanted beyond the walls.

She thought of the picture she'd seen of the little house by the water, the day she'd hurt Tuare at the conference of Forton, and thought she'd had to walk away from everything she wanted. "Manor... honors... titles...? If I have the love of my wife and father and those few who are dear to me... I want nothing else. A little cottage is enough, if we fill it with affection." She uttered briefly and waved aside the idle thought.

Only for another to come unbidden to her mind. 'I want to have a child too... is that possible? Can I? Do I dare hope for that or will it turn to ash like so many other failed dreams?' The Black Paladin pondered the thought, wondering what it felt like, and memory drifted on to memory, relayed to her by a demoness who was her friend, who had turned on her by His Majesty's orders, who was now her prosecutor...

'I remember her smile best... she always saved that for me, no matter what happened, when I was little and papa was gone and we'd left home to go to the city to find work... an there was this fat man, mamma always sent me out to play when he came over, didn know why tillah got older, anah unnerstood 'is leer. An how smug tha fat bastard was when he smiled at lil me when ah got home an went in as he was a leavin tha lil place we done lived. She done always had a smile fer me then, alays big'n bright, alays huggin me so tight it both 'urt an felt right good too.' Vanysa's demonic smile had gone cold and hard.

'Ah learnt what he been doin ta mamma when ah got older an ah got home early, ah heared em through the door, an crept ta the window an' peeked in, saw him on toppa mah momma... thas how she been payin fer me ta have a place ta sleep... that'as why she alays hugged me, an smiled even though ah know she done hated him, an what she had ta do. She smiled cuz it was fer me, and cuz ah slep cozy and warm on account of it. He was tha first man ah ever kilt. An he was the first man ah ever hated, but ah gots one thing ta thank him fer... on accounta him, ah remember momma smilin a lot, even if she was smilin through her pain. Thas what a good momma's like, she smile through everthin, ifn' that thin keeps'er younglins right safe an happy an warm an fed.'

"Can I do that?" Neia wondered to herself as she blinked suddenly when her eyes went blurry with tears. She reached up with her left hand and touched the wetness there. "What are these for...?" She wondered, and kept wondering as she found she had more of them yet to give up.


	14. Breaking the Black Paladin

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 14: Pondering Plans

_...Private Office of the Prosecutor..._

Demiurge stood still and held his chin up as Vanysa fixed his tie. "I swear, if that didn't clear your head, nothing would." The golden skinned demoness said with a roll of her eyes.

"It did, listening to you think of ways to break your friend is as intriguing as it is exciting." Demiurge remarked as she finished the last of his clothing and then reached for her own clothing and began to dress.

Her wings batted lightly, "Is it? I don't really enjoy hurting her. Of course... I know everything she's done, she does deserve some punishment, and this will do. But I really don't see her as any more guilty than I am."

As she pulled up her skirt, she looked over her shoulder at her lover, "I know you don't care about that kind of thing, but I'm a fury, I punish the guilty. I don't really want her to die, because I don't think she deserves it, but if I do my job too well, she might."

Demiurge shrugged, "One more experimental tool for me, besides, maybe Lord Ainz intends this just so he can turn her into something else, maybe he can turn her into the Fury of Wrath, the one that that book calls 'Nemesis'. You said before that Furies come in threes. Or maybe an Abbadon. If this is his intent... oh surely he saw this in her... the day he turned you? Or... when he first met her..." For a moment his voice drifted off into awe as he connected the dots inside his own mind in ever growing amazement.

That gave Vanysa pause, until at last she interrupted her lover's thoughts, "Perhaps... Obviously I'll strive to win because that is my job... and... I'll make sure she suffers here... the torment she experiences out there and through all this, satisfies enough that I don't feel inclined to take her to Neuronist. And... I wouldn't mind having a sister. But she is... she is still my friend, and I also want her to be safe, to be happy. It's all... very confusing." Vanysa said with a frustrated tone of voice as she held up her shirt.

"Really Demi, did you have to tear it?" She chuckled a bit and tossed the ruined shirt in the trash and reached for a replacement that she was wise enough to keep handy.

He smirked cockily as she began to lace it up the front, and as if in apology, he approached and began to dexterously take over the lacing for her.

She laughed, "You just like doing that because it reminds you of tying me up. Don't you?"

He laughed his sadistic laugh, and tightened it a bit more at her breasts, "Maybe."

Then his face went serious for a moment, "If you're confused about that sort of thing, talk to Lupusregina, she loves her friends, but also gets off on their suffering, see how she deals with it. I think the two of you will find you have a lot more in common than you do with almost anyone other than myself, Neuronist, or maybe Solution."

Vanysa bit her lip as she thought about that, "Good idea, I never really see her since she's always minding Enri... but I'll stop by Carne when time permits. For now though... let's get back to work, I have a few more ideas on how we can make sure that we break Neia Baraja."

"Let's hear them." Demiurge said with a sadistic smile as they reclaimed their seats.

_...Kirakira Prison..._

The next few days after a brief farewell with Robel, Neia was able to spend between her cell and the prison yard without interruption, as the trial went on with mere technical details pertaining to the siege. Still, she read the transcripts provided to her with only little care, as if her life were not on the line. The minotaur prisoners continued to progress under the order she imposed, and the elven instructors she'd brought began incorporating the combat method of their religion into the process.

Which is how one day, when the sun shone down on castoffs of the Minotaur Kingdom, Neia found herself facing off against the former 'king of the prison yard' and her second in command within it.

The prisoners surrounded them to watch. But what Neia was really minding were the guards up above. 'They are free, but still bound by the fear of their charges, they are also those who have not yet bound themselves to His Majesty's will. I will bind them all together as one... and it will begin with this.' She thought as she hefted the wooden sword she'd been given for the moment.

Mu'Ulm handled a large double headed practice axe. He cradled it like it was a beloved child.

As they approached to take position, Neia remarked, "Miss your weapons, do you?"

He nodded, "We are born for the ax, it is how our people carved a kingdom out of a forest. Our people say that a minotaur who loses his ax has lost half his soul, and a minotaur who has lost his freedom has lost the rest of it."

Neia's sky blue eyes went black as night as the battle sense took hold and she held her sword erect in front of her in salute of her opponent. "I get that, the history of my people is one long battle to survive against a world that wanted to eat us. Strength is the only path to justice, weakness is the root of all sin, the right to bear a weapon is the right to secure your justice against violation. Well, it may be a poor substitute for metal, but I hope that the right to fight me now, with even a pseudo-ax in hand, restores some sense of yourself."

Mu'Ulm looked at her for a long minute as he slowly raised his ax in front of his face, he held it two handed, with the double heads spanning from one side across his face to the other. He huffed loudly.

"It is a beginning." He said simply.

Then one of the instructors shouted, "Begin!"

The two began circling one another as cheers began to go up from elves and minotaurs alike, and Neia felt a swelling of pride rise up within, Mu'Ulm's first engagement had been little more than putting down an animal gone mad, there was nothing of the warrior, just a strong beast. Now, she was impressed by his professional stance, his legs moved slowly crossing one over the other, he was gauging her as an opponent might in proper contest.

Neia used her martial arts one right after the other, increasing her strength and speed... [Death Grip] [Speed of Death] [Unliving Endurance] [Greater Strength] And then she did as her combat method demanded that she do.

She attacked, recalling briefly what Cocytus had said, 'Always be on the attack, especially if your opponent is strong, keep them reacting, keep them obeying your will, your motions, force them to respond until you kill them, never let them have the upper hand, you must win, or you will die, and if you die, whoever is behind you, may die too...' so she launching herself forward, wishing for a bow... but attacking nonetheless. 'I wish I were as good with this thing as Skana... her acrobatics would tear this one apart.' She thought, but found at least that she was 'sufficient' and then some. His axe swung low as if to sever her body in half at the waist, she dropped below, spun in, put her free hand behind his knee, and using the force of her legs, shot up erect, lifting him clear off his feet and sending Mu'Ulm flat on his back.

He did not hesitate even when landing, he rolled before her sword could find his chest, then rolled back to catch her sword under his body, and releasing one hand from his ax, the back of his fist came out and hit Neia full in the face.

It drove her back, and she lost her grip on her sword.

She felt the blood, but not the pain as a fierce smile of some blend of masochistic and sadistic pleasure hit her, and as Mu'Ulm rose to his feet, she was on the attack again, this time when his ax came overhead, she stepped aside, and as if to mock her weaponless state, she came in and hit him several times with palm strikes, using the ki methods taught to her by Sebas, he felt his organs spasm in pain in his body wherever she struck, and with his large ax head buried in the dirt, she followed up with an uppercut to his massive minotaur jaw, sending him staggering away from his own weapon, and falling onto his back again.

The noise of the spectators was loud, intoxicating even, 'If war were as wonderful as this... I would not regret it... no wonder the gladiators do what they do.' She managed to think as she jumped forward intending to land on Mu'Ulm's torso and stomp him into submission.

To her surprise, his hooves proved useful, he arched himself with his legs toward his torso, and bucked his hooves out, catching her at the knees and pushing her off so that she landed flat on her face.

She pushed herself up at the same time as he, and for a moment their eyes went to their cast off weapons, a glance of understanding, and they rushed toward their armament of choice, snatching them up and then coming to blows again. His blows were hammer hard and wide, taking up a great area, but Neia's small size and his wide arc made them predictable and easy to avoid.

Where she didn't avoid them, she used her sword to skid them away before landing another blow on his body or his throat. He was growing tired, huffing hard, panting, she was not.

"Death never tires, death never sleeps, death never weakens." Neia said as she saw his expression of incomprehension at her seemingly inexhaustible will. "Didn't I tell you?" She asked with a low reverberating voice as she raised her sword in salute again at her opponent.

"The history of my people is one of kill or be eaten. We are becoming strong, under the stewardship of our god." She uttered and began to advance again.

Mu'Ulm drew closer, "Kill or be eaten... as we with the damnable Devor Empire... we too, are not without our strength, come on Black Paladin... show me the strength your god has given you."

They clashed again, understanding that one or the other would fall, she avoided his blow, grabbed his wrist, twisted him forward, breaking his grip on his weapon and using his forward momentum to bring him down to his knees for the second time in their brief history of combat, and locked his arm, and her sword went around to put what would have been the edge, directly against his throat.

"I yield." He acknowledged solemnly, up above, as Neia released her grip on her opponent, the minotaur guards had taken their enormous axes, and holding them by the center between the double heads, and pounded the butts of the handles into the floors where they stood.

Hooves and pounding feet echoed the sentiment as the observers showed their respect to the combatants. She glanced up above, and then leaned down to Mu'Ulm's erect ear, "They do not see a beast now, they see a warrior." She whispered, and then casting off her sword, she extended her hand, and brought him to his feet.

The speech she delivered thereafter spoke of the need for tireless discipline and the strength that comes from working for a cause beyond the petty wishes of the moment, she spoke of weaknesses in lusts, in greed, in selfishness and fear, and the power of comradeship when many became as one.

Though nominally she spoke to the prisoners, her senses were more attuned to those above, the guards who could leave this place nightly and daily according to their shifts.

A glorious warmth spread throughout Neia's body as she felt the will of her divine lord being worked on those who watched. The crimson points in her eyes that began to emerge without conscious thought, stared past flesh and bone and read the movement of their spirits as her evangelist voice acted like a rudder on the ship of thought and turned them toward the will of her divine father.

A shout from above broke the moment for her, when someone's voice called out, "Prisoner Baraja, you have a visitor!"

"I'll be right there!" She called out as she clapped her hands together excitedly and, glad of her martial arts still being active, she cast off the wooden sword into the dirt and sprinted over the yard and up the long path to the door into the administrative and visitors section of the great prison.

A behemoth of a guard waited for her, he was almost as large and broad as Mu'Ulm, with a body that looked hard as steel and a look in his eyes to match. He however, carried a two handed sword on his back. "Good fight." He said noncommittally.

Neia shrugged, imitating his casual attitude, "Good opponent. It's what every warrior wants, strength makes for strength."

It was a casually uttered sentence, but one carefully calculated as she appraised his mind and how to win him to her cause. The half step of hesitation from his hoof as he fell in behind her, told her the comment had struck home... aided by the touch of evangelist skill she put into the timbre of her voice.

She accepted the escort without further commentary as he took her to the door opening to the visitors room. He removed a set of manacles that hung from a belt at his waist, "I was going to use these. But they are not needed, are they?"

Neia spoke with the conviction that had been a hallmark of her entire life, leaving no question that she meant every single word. "No. If the one I think is here, is really beyond that door, I would rip out my own guts before even considering putting her at risk... even without my father's order to endure all this."

The guard dropped them on the floor. "Then fuck em. Go in, I will wait here." He huffed low and deep, then unlocked the door and opened it for Neia to pass beneath his eyes.

"Neia!" Skana exclaimed and slapped her hand against the glass hard enough to fracture it.

"Skana..." Neia whispered in a hushed voice full of longing, she looked behind her once to ensure that it was closed and they were alone.

Then when she was sure that they were, she moved over the floor with long strides despite her short legs, eating up every inch between them until she found herself opposite her wife, her hand slapped the glass and the cracks spread like spider webs.

For a moment all they could do was stare at one another, until Skana stood up from where she sat... "Say hello, to our child." Her belly was still not overly large, but the pregnancy was obvious. Neia looked up and down from Skana's glowing, but anxious face, and down to where their child grew.

Resolve kicked in, "Skana, my love, could you... step aside for just one moment?" Neia asked impatiently.

Skana canted her head slightly and looked uncertainly at her wife, but then did mutely as Neia asked. The unspoken question was answered when Neia formed a fist, and slammed it into the stone outcrop meant to let her arms rest as she spoke to the person on the other side. The stone broke like a rock striking wet paper, and then two more heavy blows coming from waist height, smashed the stone on which the glass sat, inward, sending stones skittering loudly over the floor and against the wall, creating a gap. A hole large enough for her arm to pass through.

Understanding dawned on Skana's face, as she came closer, and felt Neia's hand go over her belly. "Hi there..." Neia said delicately. "Hope that didn't scare you little one."

The door slammed open and the behemoth of a minotaur appeared, his eyes wide with brief alarm... until he saw what was happening. Skana's shirt was up a bit, exposing her clearly pregnant belly, and Neia's face, reflected in the glass, was atremble with longing as her hand caressed the place where the child rested.

"Never mind. I have a child, take your time, but you'll probably be punished for the damage." The minotaur said with relief, amusement, and a hint of sympathy.

"Worth it." Neia said without tearing her eyes or hand away from the body of her wife.

"I know." He answered, and left them alone again.

"Neia... How much longer do you think this will go on?" Skana asked anxiously... "I want you home... I want our lives back."

"Me too." Neia said sadly, "But... maybe I was right before, maybe I don't get to have that. I'm... I mean, I have been getting better since I went in for treatment, since I got help. But still, I can't just erase everything that happened. I'll do what I can, like Lakyus said, I will fight, I'm permitted that. I won't go quietly into the night and disappear, and if I can come home... I will. But please... don't ask for a miracle."

Skana shook her head vigorously, "No! I will ask for miracles! I'll ask for a thousand of them if I have to!" Her fists clenched at her side and her eyes squeezed tightly shut, "I begged for a miracle the day the beastmen came to that damn city... the day that I hated you... and then fell in love with you when I watched you fight on that damned wall! You were my miracle! And I won't let it end here! Not in this place! Not in the hangman's noose! I will have you home no matter what I have to do!"

Her eyes flew open and the fierce determination that had made Skana the Bold a legend in her own right, locked onto Neia and imprisoned her in a bond of affection that would not be quenched by circumstance or held back by barriers of stone or glass or chains or life itself.

"I. Will. Find. A. Way." Skana answered her wife's silence, and she reached down and clasped the hand that touched the place where their child was growing. Her hands enfolding Neia's own.

Neia's heartbeat was as rapid as if she'd run a footrace, and she met her wife's determined eyes with determination of her own.

"Skana the bold, I'm Neia Baraja, I may accept whatever has happened as unchangeable, but don't think I've counted myself out just yet, I will endure, and I will fight, and if a path to victory exists, then I will find it, and if I can't find it, and we can't find it, then by god we'll make it. We'll carve a place out for ourselves in this world, even if we have to carve it out of the flesh of those between us and it... and if it can be done... well I want to carve out enough space for some brothers and sisters for this one." Neia said with a whispered voice of utter defiance of her circumstances.

Skana looked down at her protruding belly, "Hope you're taking notes down there little one, because that's what courage looks like." She said confidently as she reached up and wiped away fierce tears of dedication from her eyes.

"They're springing to life from you... our little one won't need lessons in courage from me... you can take my word on that one." Neia said with a devoted smile as she pressed her forehead to the glass.

"Well, it can't hurt." Skana said warmly.


	15. What Lies East of East

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 15: What Lies East of East

_...Kirakira Prison..._

When Skana was gone, Neia was marched straight to the warden's office to explain the damage to the visiting room. Mu'Ka sat behind his desk, his hoof tapping up and down on the floor. Chains were on Neia's wrists again, though more to make a point than anything. Neia stared blankly at him, waiting for him to speak, with her hands hanging down in front of her.

"Well?" He asked finally and stared blankly at her.

"Well what?" She asked. Her voice flat and indifferent.

"You damaged my prison." He said and began to tap his quill on the paper in front of him with increasing impatience.

"Your prison was between me and my wife and child." Neia answered, "If it had not resisted, it would be intact." It was sarcasm in the extreme, and Mu'Ka's deep brown eyes took on an angry twitch.

Neia lowered her eyes after a moment. "I'll have the damage repaired at no cost to you. Sorry. But I saw them and... I just... I had to."

Mu'Ka set the quill down and rubbed his forehead in annoyance. "I knew you'd be trouble, but not this sort. I thought you'd end up being a status symbol that the gangs fought over having as a pet. Should have listened to the demoness and that other woman."

"I said I was sorry... well, I mean for the inconvenience, I can't be sorry for doing anything that lets me touch my wife." Neia admitted with a somewhat reluctant frown forming slightly on her face. "What's the usual punishment for damaging prison property?"

"Most of the time it's the whip. But... I've never had one apologize and offer to have it repaired either." Mu'Ka thought about it for a moment, rubbing his jaw in thought, "Fine, no food for you for the next two days. Water only, and back to your cell for that time except for trial."

"As you wish, I'll have it repaired after I'm out." Neia acknowledged even while her stomach growled in loud protest.

The same behemoth of a guard that had taken her to both locations, returned her to her cell and closed the bars behind her. She flopped down on her bunk and stared at nothing until the sound of her own growling stomach was the only thing she heard, until sleep finally claimed her.

She woke up to the sound of tapping on the bars of her cell and finding her regular clothes being slid through the bars. "Today again?" She asked as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

"Yes." The guard said with rather more respect in his voice than she'd heard last time.

She slung herself over the cot and took the clothing as the bars opened up and she was escorted off to wash herself.

Within the hour she found herself in front of her defenders at the entrance where her 'visit' had begun. "Are you ready, Neia Baraja?" Albedo asked as she looked down at the diminutive human.

Neia's eyes were beautiful in their defiance of her circumstances, and the depth of the blackness, and the bright red dots that began to glow within, set the heart of the demoness alight as she understood the source of what lived in the Black Paladin's eyes. "I am..." Neia said in the low, reverberating voice that came when her master's power was evoked, willingly or no, "Empress to be." Her eyes squeezed shut at a sudden pain and her chains rattled as she grasped her head.

Albedo felt her heart still at the manner of address, and her mind whirl with sudden confusion at the evident pain that flashed over the Pope's face. "Sorry... Lady Albedo, pain hits there sometimes... think nothing of it. Might be hunger or anxiety talking. Please, let's... get this over with."

The succubus didn't say a word, she gestured to her left, and Pandora's Actor approached with gag and hood in hand.

She opened her mouth, but before the silver gag could be inserted, Neia blurted out, "Ah... just one thing... you didn't borrow these from... you know... Vanysa and Demiurge... did you?"

Pandora's Actor chuckled, "Nein, mein frau. These are... 'clean' ones."

Neia sighed with relief, "Thanks be to god, alright... see to it, and just brief me on the way there."

The gag slid over her tongue and held it fast, and was quickly cinched behind her head. Then darkness descended as the black leather came over her and stole away the light that shone through the windows into the room.

The adamantite chains came next, and then she was patiently led out of the room and aided in stepping into the carriage. To her surprise, Albedo's hand was on her back, gently guiding her steps, feeling almost affectionate. 'I wonder what's gotten into her?' Neia pondered as she pulled herself up and into the cushioned seat making herself comfortable as she could as they began the ride.

"Today you will face Enri." Pandora's Actor said without his usual dramatic flair, Neia could practically feel his arms crossed in front of himself, as surely as she heard the displeasure.

Her head whirled, as if she could see through the hood. He went on, "No, she was not witness to your actions, yet she was the impetus behind this. And she can speak to your own words on the subject."

Neia lowered her head. 'That makes sense, I shouldn't be surprised. Foolish of me, oh well, it couldn't have been helped even if I'd foreseen it. She is my father's loyal servant, it isn't as if I could do anything against her.'

"After that, we can expect at least Gagaran to testify, and if there is time, Queen Zesshi Zetsumei." Pandora's Actor had lost its edge when he got to the matter of the half elf Queen.

"Understand, they are not just striving to show that you are guilty, but that you are so dangerously destructive that you must surely have set out to make those things happen. If they can show you to be a mindless monster, then they will have done enough. Therefore we must humanize you, in this, we are helped by their fear." He explained.

Neia cocked her head to one side, unable to ask, Albedo picked it up. "Hooded and gagged, you appear your true height, which is to say... you are short, human. And what is more, without the eyes visible, your monstrous inner nature is hidden away." Albedo looked out the window of the carriage, "Just shows how inferior they are, to not recognize the projection of my master's glory."

Neia jerked her head up and down in an enthusiastic nod.

As he looked at the powerful gesture of agreement by the Black Paladin, Pandora's Actor settled into a sullen mood. Neia's fists were clenched as she heard the sound of the city when they came near. He could see the way she suppressed her emotions. Albedo was clearly no happier than either of them, she glared out the window at the minotaur crowds which had already begun to gather for the spectacle.

"They are so small." She uttered with contempt. "Even that village born girl could speak up to you. Yet they have to keep you hidden and gagged?"

"Large of body, small of spirit. A Kingdom in doubt, like Re-Estize before mein vater. Their failures against the Beastmen of the Devor Empire have shaken their confidence." Pandora's Actor remarked with distaste.

'Devor... Devor... yes, the Triumvirate member that borders the Minotaurs. Rargnan's Kingdom had minotaurs in it, I assumed they'd have a similar status but… maybe not?' Neia pondered, but as if he could sense her thoughts, he went on.

"The Devor think of the minotaurs like cattle, humans like pigs, and many other races are even lower."

"No wonder they give way to fear so easily from a 'mere' human." Albedo remarked sardonically, and laughed behind the hand she held to her lips. "Fools."

"Listen to me, mein gut Päpstin... I think it nooooo coincidence that you are hooded and gagged, I smell the demons thoughts on this, we are, as said before, helped in this, but 'only' if you do not give way. Depriving you of your face and your voice is meant as humiliation, they aim to break you, so that you lose control and become a faceless monster. We aim to keep you dignified, to keep you seeming strong, but normal, the hood may serve as your shield or their weapon. Bear with it, and let us play our hand!" Pandora's Actor urged with the surge of dramatic passion with which Neia was more familiar.

"My master, my future husband... loves you." Albedo said with a calmer voice than the words suggested, and Neia could feel the golden eyes boring into her head. "You will not break today, or it would shame him, do as you have always done. Endure."

Neia moved her head up and down in slow solemnity. Her fists stayed clenched and she felt the sudden pressure of the hands of Pandora's Actor on her shoulders.

"Trust me! I know mein vater's soul, he hates this as you do! But I know what you do behind walls of stone, endure this day well, as the price you must pay for tomorrow! Leave the speaking to us, unless you think my skills as a thespian to be inferior to your own!" His voice was moving, passionate, enthusiastic, and proud, and in spite of herself, Neia felt her body relax and she rested herself against the back of her seat.

It was good enough, they rode in silence, and when at last the carriage stopped, Neia emerged from the carriage with some assistance, and walked with her back ramrod straight. The eyes meant nothing to her, even could she have seen them.

She felt the stone through her boots, and her hands, despite being bound by chains at the wrists, could move a bit, and touched the fabric of the familiar clothing. 'I am still myself, whatever that means. I faced Jaldabaoth, Remedios, Astraka, Suchala, and the hoards of demihumans. I will not sin here.' She reminded herself, and therefore carried herself as if in state, her steps echoed as silence began to fall, she felt the steps, but required no guidance this time. Only the rattle of the chains that held her fast, and the steady martial footsteps that did not break or falter, filled the air and bounced across the acoustics of the pavilion where she was being tried.

When she reached her seat, she allowed Pandora's Actor to assist her, and she sat.

She heard a voice announce, "Rise for the adjudicator." The sound of mass standing echoed briefly, until the adjudicator entered, took his seat, and sat for himself.

"Be seated." The same voice said, and the spectators, jurors, and various officials sat.

"Your Honor," Demiurge began, "I call Enri Emmot-Bareare to the stand."

Neia suppressed a growl as she heard the familiar human footsteps of her rival, ally, and the force behind her present circumstances. 'I knew this was coming... but still.'

Enri went behind the podium, and Demiurge quickly asked her, "You served as General of the Army of Carne, didn't you?"

"I did." Enri said firmly. Her eyes raked over the pavilion of inhuman faces.

"And while in that capacity, did you ever have occasion to learn what your counterpart, General Neia Baraja, was doing? Or to speak with her on the matter?" Demiurge asked her with a barely suppressed wolfish grin behind his clipped and professional tone.

"I... yes. She was engaged in abject slaughter!" Enri slammed her fist on the podium in front of her, she gritted her teeth furiously, "She took captives in the South, forced them to fight her, and cut off their hands and ears, she drowned the city of Yanana, she ordered most of Wheaton to be slaughtered and then burned the entire place to ashes because of a handful of would be assassins!" She seethed as she uttered her words, they dripped from her poisonous tongue, and Neia felt her skin crawl as if it was being licked over by a monster.

"But that isn't all, you had private words, didn't you?" Demiurge asked patiently, with seeming sympathy.

Enri's entire body visibly locked up. Demiurge glanced down at his paramour, and at a nod from him, she stood.

Vanysa approached, 'woman to woman' her wide gray eyes, captivating and penetrating, she came to where Enri stood frozen, and touched her hand, "It's alright, she's contained, she can't do anything."

Enri relaxed under the gently coaxing voice of the demoness of vengeance, "Y-Yes we had a private talk... things got... emotional."

"Did she threaten you?" Vanysa coaxed, lightly stroking Enri's hand as if to soothe her.

"Not... not exactly. She put her hand on my throat... and..." Enri started to answer, only for Vanysa to press a little harder.

"Was she going to kill you, Enri?" Vanysa asked softly, leaning forward slightly.

"I... no, maybe, I can't say." Enri answered, turning her face away from the questions.

"Objection, conjecture! How can she say what she 'might' have done?! This is about what did happen, not what might have!" Albedo's voice carried over the court, and the adjudicator pounded his gavel sharply.

"Sustained. Witness will refrain from answering the last question." The adjudicator remarked.

"Rephrase. Have you ever known her to respond with violence far beyond what is necessary?" Demiurge asked from the table.

Vanysa felt her wings tremble with excitement. He's so amazing... he knows just what to ask...'

"That's all she does!" Enri shouted with a passionate outburst, her hand covered her chest, "I read every single document, I remember everything she did in her own words! Slaughter! Slaughter! Slaughter! How does anyone drown a city and sleep at night?! How does anyone burn a city and sleep at night?! How does anyone cut off hands and ears of those who haven't a chance, and go back and kiss their wife goodnight?!" She was breathing hard as if she'd just been in a terrible battle, she put a fist over her chest... "It was war, death happens, but that wasn't war! That was..."

"Revenge?" Vanysa prompted slyly.

Enri nodded.

"We're through with this witness." Demiurge said confidently, and Vanysa withdrew and sat primly beside her lover, smiling like the cat who ate the canary.

Albedo rose to her feet and gave Enri a motherly smile, "Tell me, and the rest of the court, about the rebellion that took place all over the South of the Slane Theocracy."

Enri went from wide eyed and emotional to suddenly confused. "What rebellion?

There was stirring in every seat.

"Oh, so you're saying she was successful at keeping the peace. Not a single land she conquered, rose in rebellion?" Albedo asked as if she didn't believe the question she obviously knew the answer to.

"No, none. What she captured, stayed secure..." Enri reluctantly admitted.

"Just like yours?" Albedo asked teasingly.

As if the words were ripped out of her, Enri uttered them with guttural loathing, "No... the North of the Theocracy rose up in rebellion all over the place, toward the end of the war."

"And how many of your soldiers died in that fighting?" Albedo asked as her face went stern and demanding.

'Curse you... curse you damned Agante fools! If you hadn't done all that crap...' Enri thought and gritted her teeth, but answered begrudgingly. "There were over ten thousand dead between Ikari, Crossroads, and all the towns and villages, before the insurrection was crushed."

"And an entire army was diverted to assist with this, wasn't it?" Albedo asked, holding her hand out as if to take the answer from Enri, who stared hard at the Guardian Overseer as she answered a reluctant...

"Yes. General Nimble diverted his imperial soldiers, around sixty thousand or so, to help recapture everything that was briefly lost." Enri admitted.

"And how many among the 'conquered' population died in all that fighting?" Albedo asked with a smile on her face as she twisted the knife.

"I don't know exactly but... the North held over five hundred thousand people not counting soldiers and slaves, at least. And the last census of the area had fewer than eighty thousand still there today. Some probably moved, others were conscripted and died fighting or resettled elsewhere but... the dead are countless." Enri replied with a shudder.

A coin fell out of the pocket of a minotaur on the far left hand side of the pavilion. The minotaurs on the far right, heard the sound of it clink off the stone.

"So surely if General Baraja was so monstrous as that, there must be even fewer alive there, mustn't there?" Pandora's Actor asked, putting the kind of melodramatic flare into his words that only he and a handful of others could do.

"That's not fair!" Enri exclaimed and jabbed her finger at the blank visage of Pandora's Actor. "She didn't do it to keep order! She did it because..." Enri trailed off as uncertainty hit her. "Because..." Her arm lowered slowly.

"Yes?" Pandora's Actor probed further.

"I don't know..." Enri's anger dissipated slowly, "I... I know a lot of people died that didn't have to! I know she had them butchered, that she inflicted terrible wounds on many of her captives... but I... isn't that knowing enough?! Maybe it did keep order, maybe it even saved some of her soldiers... but that doesn't mean it was the only way!" The words were ripped out of her soul as her memory carried her back to the death of her father, the way he shouted for her to take Nemu and run from the knights who had come to kill her for no reason.

"When you find it... let us know." Pandora's Actor said dryly, "We're through with this witness." He said, and Enri took small steps away from the podium, and slowly exited the trial.


	16. Allies to Enemies

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 16: Allies to Enemies

_...Menowa..._

Neia felt her heart start to race in her chest as her former ally exited the area. But she gave no outward sign that it was important. 'Is it really betrayal, when she never liked me much in the first place?' Neia wondered, and wondered further, that she felt no anger, only a sense of... sadness, not deep or broad, but present, and all the more strange to her that she could not identify the source for it. She stroked the back of her hand slowly, as if caressing a wound, and waited for the next who would strive to hammer nails into her coffin.

The lumbering steps told her who it was even before the witness was called, such was the careful orchestration of her opponents. 'This is Vanysa's doing. She knows me well enough to know what order to call them in. Oh god, no... who will they call after Gagaran... please don't let it be her?' She stilled the thought before it could claim a firm footing on her heart. 'No. Do not panic yet. If she were coming, she'd have told me... unless she were forbidden. Or would she?' Neia wondered, and then pinched her own thigh sharply, letting the brief little pain distract her from the thought as Gagaran's name was finally uttered and the woman went to the podium.

"You are Gagaran, the Adamantite ranked adventurer, aren't you?" Demiurge asked rhetorically.

"I am." She replied easily, Neia could hear the pride in the woman's voice.

"You've faced all manner of threats, dangers, and terrors, haven't you?" Demiurge asked, again rhetorically, but again Gagaran answered.

"That's how you get to be Adamantite ranked, so yes. Yes I have." She still held the pride in her voice that was the due of the pinnacle of human potential.

"You served under General Neia Baraja, is that right?" Demiurge asked as he slowly began to build momentum.

"I did." Gagaran said, turning her glare on the Black Paladin as if her stare alone could strike Neia down.

"And what was your impression of her?" Demiurge asked, his casual gesture out to her being at once inviting and expectant.

"How far back do you want me to go?" Gagaran asked sardonically, "The answer doesn't change... much."

"All stories begin at the beginning, so start there." gave a polite smile and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"I first met her when she was a nobody of a squire, just some girl from a failing nation who was in desperate need of help. But I knew immediately that she was trouble, you get an instinct for these things when you're in my position. It isn't that she was powerful, she wasn't. But it was her eyes, the way they looked. It wasn't just the fearlessness, many warriors who survive dire things develop that kind of courage, whether they're an adventurer or a regular in an army." Gagaran paused and took a drink of water and gulped it down, hard.

"Then what was it?" Demiurge pushed, the first bead of sweat appeared on Gagaran's forehead.

"It was the obsession, the zealotry. I saw recklessness in the extreme, and that made her dangerous, not just to her enemies, but to her allies. She had a death wish, and would drag a lot of people down with her along the way... and I was right." Gagaran's voice was at once hollow, horrified, and admiring as she glared not at Demiurge who spoke to her, but at the Black Paladin of whom she spoke.

"I heard how she offered her head to the Sorcerer King if she offended him by begging for him to send help even one year earlier, even if it hurt his kingdom? Who does that?! Who just says, 'Please do this even if it hurts your country, but if I've offended you, here have this head from my shoulders to make up for it.' It's crazy, isn't it? In a way... I admit I admired her for that story, that kind of devotion to her people is what heroes are made of but... it's also madness! Heroes aren't supposed to throw their lives away! Death may happen, but I felt for sure that she almost longed for it! And once someone treats their own life that way, well what does anyone else's matter!" Gagaran was shouting her answers by then, but shouting them at Neia herself as the giant of a woman clenched her fists in frustration.

Demiurge however, remained utterly at ease, "Did your opinion ever change?" He prompted, and for a moment Gagaran could only grind her teeth.

"Not noticeably. She was dangerous then, she's dangerous now. When she started getting stronger, and the things she... manifested, well how do I say this?" She took a deep breath and the minotaur official nearby approached and refilled her cup with water. She drank deeply and set the cup down on the podium again.

"I believe in His Majesty, that he can and 'will' make a paradise out of his empire, I have seen enough to be convinced of that. But her?" Gagaran knocked the cup aside and sent it clattering loudly to the floor and she jabbed her finger at the Pope, "She'll create a desert and call it peace! She only grew more and more violent as the war went on, she became unhinged!" Her voice began to rise with excitement and frustration.

"I saw her play with terror like children with their toys! No wonder they coined the word 'terroreyes' for her. Fear is her weapon and to use that weapon she creates oceans of blood to drown her enemies. All that though, all of it... is nothing compared to what happened in Wheaton."

Gagaran's voice went from outraged and loud, to so small and weak that it was only the amplification magic and the quality construction of the pavilion that allowed her to be heard from where she stood.

"I... heard her in my head that day. Whatever it was, whatever happened, whatever she did, I heard her in my head and all I felt was a lust for blood! Like a newborn crying for the breast, or a child for their toy... all I could think of was my desire to kill and kill and kill! There wasn't any reason, I was like a mad dog and she did it to me!" She screamed the last sentence and jammed her finger, shaking and trembling, at the still statue-like Black Paladin.

"I still don't remember everything, but what I do..." Gagaran clutched her head and the fearless adventurer, the woman of legend, could not keep her body from shaking at the memories she still had, "what I do is the cause of nightmares that never stop, and I can still hear her! I can still hear that seductive invitation to butcher and slaughter! I'm cursed, and she cursed me! We were on the same side and she cursed me to this hell! Me and who knows how many others! When we were ourselves again after it was over... most of the city was dead or burning... and she made that happen."

"Damn it all, she almost killed my sister at Prart, when that thing she does began, Lakyus could have been shredded like so much paper, she executed her own people, prisoners, just to show that taking hostages was pointless, and she did it with an expression that one might use when trimming a garden's stray branches or cutting off a stray hair from her own head... like it was nothing. How does anyone just kill their own like that?!"

Gagaran's face was a twisted mask of pain and she grabbed the podium hard enough to crack the sturdy, thick wood, "Maybe... look I really... I really don't hate her, but the voice, and the things she made us do? Nobody can walk away from that! And I'll feel a whole lot better and safer with 'it' safely locked away or... or something." Gagaran cut herself off from uttering the word 'dead' and forced herself to finish.

"So you wanted my opinion, there it is, she was a rampage waiting to happen, she was unleashed, and so a rampage happened. As long as she's alive, if you put allies around her, they'll either die or be warped, if there are innocent people in her way, then I don't think they'll be there for very long." Gagaran tried, and largely failed, to appear decisive and resolute, as she folded her arms in front of her body, but she did at least sound truthful, that much she was sure of when her lips pursed with finality.

Trapped within her hood, the darkness was her world, but Neia remained still and unmoving through the entire tirade, a statue except of course, for the pulsing redness in her night dominated eyes. Of course, even with those red points, she could not see through the thick leather hood, but despite it keeping out the light and obstructing her view, she heard every word, and for the first time since her ordeal began, she was grateful for the gag in her mouth.

Albedo stood as Demiurge expressed his thanks and seated himself. A dozen questions stampeded through her head, but as she looked at the 'prey' at the podium, she felt a minor twinge of frustration. 'Damn, she looks so vulnerable up there, to attack her testimony would only lend her sympathy and make Neia appear to be a villain. Bothersome insect. Well there are better witnesses I can use to counter her. But this one thing I can do.' She thought, and struck home with her question.

"Just a few questions for you, Gagaran of Blue Rose, and then you may go." Albedo said with a matronly smile and the sort of affectionate voice she used when encouraging someone to do what she wanted.

"Do your sisters agree with your opinion? Any of them?" Albedo asked with a voice as gentle as a mother asking a child whose face was covered with chocolate, if they'd gotten into the chocolate cake. It wasn't asked to find the truth, but to allow the child to confess to what the mother already knew.

"No... No they don't. Tia and Tina are... unique. They take a very indifferent view on the means as long as they get to the ends they want. And as for Lakyus and Evileye... they're not really speaking to me at the moment." Gagaran answered, somewhat shamefaced.

"I see, and are they feeling 'cursed' themselves, or is it just you?" Albedo asked gently, as if one were asking a child if an injury hurt or not, knowing it did and that they wouldn't want to admit it.

"If they are, they haven't said anything." Gagaran responded reluctantly.

"So not everybody had the same results as you, so then isn't it fair to say that it is something about 'you' rather than about 'her' that has you thinking the way you are now?" Albedo asked with the teasing, leading question, and Gagaran hung her head.

"It may be... but I know the sound of my own voice, versus hers. And I hear her still, and I don't know if I ever won't." Gagaran uttered in a hushed and troubled tone.

From where she sat, Neia felt her heart all but break, and so she took up a quill that was near to hand and scrawled something on the back of her hand, then put her hand on the table, flat, beneath the eyes of Pandora's Actor.

She felt him squeeze her shoulder reassuringly, and she relaxed a little.

"That will be all." Albedo remarked, and Gagaran left the podium, and Neia faced her, even behind the hood, thanks to the heavy steps, Gagaran's position was obvious to her as if she could be seen.

The adamantite ranked adventurer returned the look, directly to the faceless hood, seeing the degraded state of the woman many regarded as a hero, the woman she fought beside and fought under, her heartbeat increased again.

As she passed, she glanced down at the table, where Neia's hand still rested, curious to see what she'd written and shown to Pandora's Actor, and her heart leaped into her throat. She read, 'Get her help. Please.' Scrawled crudely on the skin of the Black Paladin she'd testified against.

Gagaran could only trudge the rest of the way out of the trial, and felt every inch the traitor as she did so.

As she exited the area, she found an unexpected sight. Across the street, impossible to miss in a city full of minotaurs, were her sisters, Lakyus and Evileye. She waited as a pair of pull carts rushed over the stone, and then dashed across the street.

"Lakyus... Ev-Keeno! What are you doing here?!" Gagaran exclaimed in surprise, "Wait you're not here to... testify, are you?" She went pale, "Did you... hear everything?"

"Damn it, Gagaran... Damn it!" Keeno approached her with two quick steps and looked up with tears in her vampire blood red eyes, eyes she'd hidden for generations of human lifetimes that were naked and free to be shown to the world, stared angrily up at her. The side of Keeno's tiny fist pounded into Gagaran's heavy armored torso.

"How could you? How could you do that?" Keeno asked plaintively, "I know you don't like her, never did, but didn't you stop to think about what you were doing?"

Gagaran's face was stoney, "Did she? Did she ever stop to think about what she was doing? When she put arrows into the people who trusted her? When she told us all to kill and turned me into a berserker that could slaughter anyone and everyone no matter who or what they were?"

Keeno was close, and her fist pounded in frustration, but she didn't say anything else.

Lakyus however, did. "Do you think she really walked away from all that like it was nothing? I'm a priestess, and I was then too, and I spent many hours helping her cope with that nightmare, yes, she did. She hated every single bit of it. Why do you think she spent so long in that recovery house? The whole thing all but drove her mad! She's not a monster! She was never going to hurt me, no matter what you thought!" The blonde woman's voice was loud enough to draw glances from the minotaur population, even discounting the fact that there were humans in their city at all, who stared at them just over that.

"Maybe not... but not everything she did wrong was on purpose... and even if it wasn't, she's not the only one that war ruined! What about me?!" Gagaran slapped her own chest with agonized frustration. "I'm your sister too damn it! We walked together through fire and blood! You brought me back from the dead after Jaldabaoth killed me! But now here I am the walking dead and you're worried about what happens to her?! I haven't slept free of nightmares since that day! She's dangerous! She'll destroy you if she's left to roam free! I didn't do this because I hate her... I'm grateful to her..." Gagaran's lip trembled against her will and she crouched down, and touched Keeno's angry face.

"You get to show yourself, I can really see you, and she had a hand in that... but I won't let her put you all at risk again!" Gagaran's vision blurred, "Please... please understand... this had to be done, this had to happen... I don't feel good about it, so please... forgive me." She asked desperately as she held out her hands to them both.

There was a long silence, and neither took the hands Gagaran offered out.

"Wait for us." Lakyus said when it had already stretched too long, "We're actually going in, we're the next pair of witnesses."

Her beautiful blue eyes stared hard up into her long time sister, "Lady Albedo saw this coming from you, and we're being summoned to rebut this assertion that she laid some kind of terrible curse down on you or anybody else. Having a cursed sword, I'm something of an expert witness on the subject."

"And given that I'm an expert magic user and am familiar with all manner of curses, I'll be shoring up her testimony, and we can both speak about her state of mind. You made her out to be a monster, but that isn't right, and we've all seen enough monsters that you should have known better, Gagaran." Keeno said with a stinging rebuke that had Gagaran drop her arms in defeat, leaving her hands at her sides.

"Come back in, sit, watch, and see it all through our eyes, as you should have the whole time." Lakyus said with a more gentle tone than Keeno had used.

They didn't wait on her answer, they didn't need to, they knew her choice before she made it, and returned to the entry to take a seat at the back and finally hear her sisters out.

_...Crescent Lake..._

Bertra watched the testimony of Gagaran with rapt attention from the great square, elves and a few resident humans were staring up for so long that their necks ached as the drama unfolded in front of them.

It wasn't hard to tell the mood, it was sour. Confused, even disbelieving as one of the ones who had helped free the elves, testified against the one behind it. Angry rumblings were the order of the day, but from where Bertra sat, all she could feel was a dull ache as she thought of what must have happened that day. 'I hope... I hope... that this ends soon.' She managed to put the grim thought together, and watched as Lakyus was called to the podium in Gagaran's place.


	17. Revenge

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 17: Revenge

_...Menowa..._

Neia sat as tranquil as the dawn under the instruction of her legal representatives as Lakyus answered the call to the stands, 'Thanks be to god that they didn't call my wife up.' Neia thought to herself with a sigh of relief.

Her relief died when she felt it as Lakyus took the stand. A telltale smile. Demiurge, Albedo, and Pandora's Actor could keep themselves in perfect control, but the demoness of vengeance could not, and friend or not, she knew all too well that Vanysa was more demoness than human, and savored suffering in those she deemed in some way guilty.

It was the feeling of someone smiling at her.

Anger began a slow burn in Neia's breast.

"You are Lakyus of Blue Rose, are you not?" Pandora's Actor took the lead, his dramatic poses and gestures seemed to warm Lakyus to him immediately.

"I am she, wielder of the cursed sword, Kilineiram." Lakyus replied loudly and boldly, Neia felt the gag restrain her groan, even if it could not restrain the rolling of her eyes as her friend could not resist the chance at grandstanding just a little.

"Tell the court, you heard the testimony here, from your companion, Gagaran. Do you agree with her?" Pandora's Actor made a dramatic and inviting bow and swept his arm out at the crowd.

It seemed as if he was tailor made to draw out the best performance possible from the noble Lakyus, "I saw a wounded hero! That is all I've ever known of her! When we met, I saw the self sacrifice that makes ordinary people into heroes of legend! When we met one another again, I saw a hero bloom in Kedyn as she relentlessly protected the innocent from those who sought to slaughter them all! Yes, it is true!" She flung her arms out in a gesture of embrace.

"She went far beyond the mean in her zeal... but who among us would wish for half a hero?! I saw her at Prart, where she let her body be torn apart and nearly died to protect her city from an army! Yes... she put down hostages... but... wait, I cannot say more." Lakyus hesitated, and shut her mouth tight.

"Why not?" Pandora's Actor replied, disappointment clear in his voice as he eagerly looked for more from her, like two hams on a stage, but her silence was genuine.

"I know more but... I know it in the capacity as a former priestess of water, before I converted, but the seal of council between the priestess and one in her spiritual care is a bond I cannot break. Not without Neia's permission." Lakyus's expression was stern, all business, the ham was gone for the moment.

Neia took a deep breath, it brought the taste of her gag to her tongue all over again. She nodded. Though inwardly she groaned at Lakyus's overly dramatic behavior.

"Nobody wept over those hostages more than she! Yes, in public, she wore the face of horror, monster, terror, she wore the mask of rage set to burn the whole world down if it defied her will but that was for the public! It wasn't all she was! How many times I held her as she cried tears enough to create a lake of salt water. She hated it all, she did it to spare them pain, to keep them from being tools! You have to understand... Remedios and Suchala, they were real monsters, they burned people alive! They wanted to torture people in front of the walls to weaken the resolve of those set to defend the people behind the stone! She did not kill a single one of her soldiers with glee, she did it because it was the only way to save them and... and to show the other side what resolve... really meant!" Lakyus pounded her fist on the podium.

"Terror, Gagaran said she used terror as a weapon, and about that she's right! But she was facing people who wanted to do the same thing! The war in the west and in the south was like nothing I've ever seen, burnings, inquisitions, the followers of the old gods would cast the elderly and even children naked into the snow to freeze to death. Neia taught those lunatics what 'terror' really meant, and because of that, she neutralized their best weapon! The Theocracy sought to use terror to impose submission, but they did not know what they were facing. She did not ask for that!" Lakyus held the eyes of those around her in her heroic gaze, imposing as if by force of will, an understanding of what she meant to her very core.

"Did you not call her 'lost' when you saw her severing the hands of overseers like the recent witness?" Pandora's Actor seemed to ask, but in fact, he was 'prompting' her to preempt the counterstrike of his opponents.

"I did. Because she was, I prayed so hard for her that day... because she's my friend, because she took risks for us... she did that, and everything, and nobody else, because she didn't want anyone else to have to. Queen Calca once referred to her as a human sacrifice, the one who had to do the worst and be the worst so that we didn't have to... I humored her at the time, but as I stand here now, and see the nations that condemn her, as I see her friends, her allies, come to speak against her, I believe the Queen spoke the truth!" She stabbed her hand out and her finger pointed solidly at the Black Paladin.

"Let. Her. Go! Has she not endured enough?! If you want to say she went too far, fine, but it was a war where everything and everyone was too far gone! Let her go! Let HER GO! LET HER GO!" Lakyus shouted passionately, and from city to city throughout the lands of the elves, from Crescent Lake to Forton, and throughout the Northern Holy Kingdom, from Hoburns and Kedyn, even as far east as Commonton, and among the many who knew her in the northern parts of the Empire, the call was taken up so loudly that it seemed as if one voice was shouting down the conquered Theocracy remainder with the cry.

"Yes, I heard her voice in my head at Wheaton! But I am my own woman, there was no curse! Whatever she did, only played to a part of ourselves that we were somewhat inclined to give in to anyway! I wield a cursed blade that is always calling for me to work horror, but I do not, because I rule me, no other voice but my king can give me orders!" She shouted loudly and looked squarely at a now distressed Gagaran who sat shifting uncomfortably in the back, near the entrance.

"Now Let! Her! Go!" Lakyus demanded again, slamming her fist hard enough on the podium that a chunk of it broke off.

"Let! Her! Go!" Was on millions of lips, and it did not die down in the cities, for a full hour after Lakyus was dismissed without questions from the prosecutors.

Neia however, felt her blood going up as the memories Lakyus recited came to mind again.

"We call Keeno Fasris Inberun to the stand." Albedo said as Pandora's Actor seated himself. Neia felt a warm glow within when Lakyus stopped by her table, and embraced her lightly from behind as she left.

Keeno descended easily on light feet, her vampiric eyes clearly visible.

"Tell me, what are you?" Albedo asked the unexpected question with a straight face and quite directly, but Keeno did not miss a beat.

"I am a vampire. I used to be a princess too, but the land I was born in is no more, so it is enough to say I am a vampire adventurer and a defender of the just." She said in her childlike voice.

"I see, you were not always known as a vampire?" Albedo asked, ignoring the rumbles among the minotaurs who found themselves discomfited by a vampire in the midst, a few, too put off by that to tolerate it, discreetly but hastily abandoned their seats and evacuated the pavilion.

"I was not, I wore a mask to hide my face so my eyes were not visible, and from behind it, I could protect humanity without being hunted by them." She explained with a childishly happy voice.

"And tell me, have you ever been frightened of Neia? Did her voice not touch you and command you to commit atrocity?"

"No. I was never frightened of her. Also, I am undead, I am resistant to mind control, but I heard her anyway, that means it wasn't mind control." Keeno declared with her arms folded with finality in front of her. "I won't tell you she was right to do that, but I don't think she was all there either. I saw her during the fight, she'd clearly lost all reason. Someone tried to challenge her to single combat, she never gave them a chance, she never heard them, she only charged and hacked until the poor fool fell over dead, she took a sword through her arm that should have crippled the use of it, but from where I stood I clearly saw that she was using it as if it were in perfectly good condition. She wasn't herself, I know that for a fact. If I had any doubts during the fight, I didn't at the end." Keeno explained patiently.

Where Lakyus had been dramatic, Keeno had been easy and professional, clinical in her voice and matter of fact, no dramatic gestures, no performative tone. Just dry and flat and truthful.

"Explain what you mean by that." Albedo said in a professional voice that mirrored her witness.

"Happy to, the last fight of the battle was between her and a soldier in the center of the city, but not only did she kill him in a few seconds, but she did it by beating him to death, and when he was dead, she kept beating his skull until what was left of his head was mush, and every finger on her hands was completely broken, several times in several places. Then when she came back to herself, she ordered that prisoners be secured and treated... and promptly fell unconscious for several hours even after being healed. All that tells me is whatever she saw in there... broke something inside her. That explains a lot, really." Keeno said thoughtfully and tapped her cheek with one thoughtful finger.

It was the twitch of the prosecuting demoness's eyebrow that told Keeno that she'd made some kind of mistake.

Vanysa tapped Demiurge's arm, it drew his attention, and she whispered to him, a sadistic smile came over his face.

Keeno held back the urge to swallow as Albedo smiled and said , "I'm finished with this one."

"Just a few questions." Demiurge said and stood up.

"Keeno, tell me what you meant by 'it explains a lot'." The demon genius said knowingly.

'Shit.' Keeno thought.

"B-Before the battle began, I was put to security, to protect Skana, so I was closer than anyone, In case they broke a truce again and tried to kill our leadership. Vice Commander Skana begged... begged them to surrender the city, she offered incredibly generous terms, she was pleading desperately for the city to submit, I'd never heard her like that before, or since." Keeno replied and then closed her mouth tight, Neia's head snapped instinctively to where Keeno stood as the new information came to her ears.

"Why did she beg so hard?" Demiurge asked seductively.

"B-Because Skana told him that if the commander found out that the city held a breaker academy, she would wipe it out. Skana... she knew what went on there, she kept it back from her wife, her commander, to protect her." Keeno lowered her gaze.

She couldn't even meet the stare of Neia, with a hood between them, she could feel the sense of betrayal beneath the leather barrier over the Pope's head.

"Why did she need protecting?" Demiurge pushed.

Keeno shifted a foot before forcing herself to be still and clutching the podium for support.

"Because... because she'd grown more and more violent and barbaric, and she didn't want her wife to get worse! Because she was trying to save people..." Keeno added as if the words were dragged from her by wild horses.

"Save people... innocent people... from Neia Baraja, isn't that right?" Demiurge's voice became hard, demanding, his crystalline stare was inescapable.

"Y-Yes." Keeno said weakly.

"As if she were a monster... a butcher... and the sort that should be hanged or put down. Isn't that so?!" Demiurge demanded further.

"Objection!" Albedo and Pandora's Actor shouted.

Neia's head was reeling. 'She knew! My wife knew! She knew! She knew what was happening there and she didn't tell me?!' Rage continued to build in her breast.

"Withdrawn." Demiurge said benignly, "I'm done with this one." he waved his hand dismissively and winked at Albedo.

Keeno trudged out like she'd lost a major battle, not approaching nor speaking to Neia, and not meeting Gagaran's or Lakyus's eyes as she exited the pavilion.

"I have another witness I'd like to call." The demon said pleasantly, "I'd like to call Dasis of Wheaton to the stand."

A shockingly good looking man came up and approached the now heavily cracked and damaged podium. The demon casually tapped Vanysa's hand, and her wings folded into her body, and again she was a beautiful, buxom blonde girl with the most innocent and kind air about her... till one looked into the cold, storm gray eyes and held them for too long.

She approached the man with a slow, easy, seductive swaying of her hips, as if she found the square jaw and piercing blue eyes of the man with his hard body and thick muscles to be supremely attractive. Vanysa however, took in his scent and saw something very different. 'He might be so beautiful to some in... in that way... if'n I didn't have my Demi. As it is... oh what a scent... so much guilt on him... I could play with him for a hundred years and not get bored... but this will do, this will break her.' Vanysa thought to herself and felt a pang of guilt as she strove to hurt Neia as much she could, despite treasuring her as she did.

"You taught at the Breaker Academy... didncha?" She asked in a folksy way that immediately set him at ease as the scent of a lustful woman drew closer to him.

"I did." Dasis answered with a grin that would have been the face of terror if he had understood that her lust was not to rut with him, but to tear him apart.

"So... how does one make a pliant slave?" Vanysa asked as if curious, and on a professional level, she was, 'I wonder if they have any original ideas I might use?' She pondered briefly and then dismissed it. 'I have my standards after all.' She brushed off the thought, and let him speak as he breathed in the scent of a beautiful woman, he'd been without one for a long time, that was clear, and his brain was addled by desire, so he did not even hesitate to boast of his expertise.

The response was immediate, not from the witness, but from the table where Neia sat. She began to shift in her seat, a low and muffled moan came from within her hood, her chains snapped taut and had they been less than orichalcum, Pandora's Actor was convinced they might have snapped.

"Well, the goal is always to break them down to the point where they won't think of rebelling, degradation is really good that way, I mean fear is useful too, but if you really want to make a pliant slave... humiliation is much better. See fear gets even base beasts angry, but if they're brought lower than the dust, so that they can't even look at themselves with any sense of self respect anymore, well then you've got em. That's where the term 'breakers' comes from, because when Justicar got it started, it was either fawn breaking or buck breaking. You can fuck the soul right out of any elf if you do it enough times. Watch that light in their eyes go out... and then you got nothin to worry about from em anymore. Physical pain is little more than goading them in the right way after that."

He gave a large, shit eating grin. "Humiliate them, make them fear you, then repeat until there's nothin left. Eventually they'll beg to obey."

Vanysa had her back to the defendant, a flash of regret ran through her mind, 'Neia... I'm sorry.' She thought, and asked the last question.

"Why are you still alive, weren't you to be hanged?" Vanysa asked as if she didn't know.

"I was promised that I wouldn't be hanged if I told what I knew. That I would get to leave prison and never go back." He said smugly.

"So back to normal life for you?" Vanysa clapped her hands lightly together as if excited for him and smiled broadly.

"Yup, if that's all? I'd like to go, got a life to get to, and freedom to enjoy." He said with clear happiness and a broad smile mimicking Vanysa's spread over his face.

"Just one more thing, tell us a bit of how all that worked, maybe some examples?" Vanysa came close, the excitement in her voice as if she were getting off to his story, with the pheremones she exuded, he couldn't resist.

He started telling stories.

Neia stroked her hand and tried to think of other things, but on and on his words went as he was questioned and his stories were expanded with ever more details that tore at the sanity of the pope.

Within three minutes, that was all it took.

Neia was shaking in her chair, her heart was racing. 'No! No! I don't want to hear! I Please, please I don't want to hear this I can't bear it I can't I can't I can't! I don't want to know what they did to her... bad enough to see what the things I saw back then! I can't relive it! I can't!' She screamed inside her head as the Demoness of vengeance played her game with the witness, teasing out details of the way to humiliate an elven man or woman and tear away their sense of self worth, to mutilate their inner selves, or as he put it, 'fuck the soul out of them'.

A gurgling wail went up from where Neia sat and she thrashed like mad, unable to keep the words of the witness from her ears, unable even to make the noise to drown them out, unable to escape or break her chains, she began slamming her head down on the table, as muffled cries escaped despite the securing of her tongue, anything she could do to stop the words from reaching her ears, she did. The table shattered on the third blow, and she tried to leap from her chair before Pandora's Actor forced her back down and shouted for a recess.

'They did that to Illyana, to all of them! I'll kill them! I'll kill them! I'll kill them all! I'll tear their wretched cocks off their screaming bodies! I'll hunt them to the ends of the world and the depths of the sea! They will break! They will die! They must all die! DIE! DIE!' Neia screamed inside her head, and a terrible pressure ripped out of nowhere and crashed down like a mountain, a wave of unbridled rage came over her as without the ability to control herself, it first hit the entire pavillion, forcing powerful warriors to their knees.

Vanysa felt her knees crack from the pressure when she hit the floor, and yowled in sudden pain before Neia, without hesitation or any hint of mercy, brought that focus of pressure slowly to a single point.

She tore the hood from her head as the pressure of her divine lord began to tear her flesh away, strips peeled away and burned up and the eyes of terror were black as night within a cave, save for glowing red points.

Dasis of Wheaton tried to scream as his jaw was slowly torn away, "I was supposed to live!" He cried once, and then it became a mangled yowl as she focused every bit of the pressure onto his body... and turned Dasis of Wheaton, who tried to escape despite his shattered knees, into a puddle of mush.

One instant he was there, and then, he had become one red stain on the stone, a lump of flesh and broken, shattered bones and blood, and the podium a crumpled heap, while pools of blood began to form at Neia's feet as blood seeped out where flesh had been ripped away.

"Stop." Demiurge ordered her, using his command mantra on the Black Paladin. And she did, cutting it off instantly. "A recess is acceptable... to clean up what is left of the body of the witness that the defendant just killed."

As the witness was turned the paste and Demiurge suggested a recess to clean up, those with sensitive ears heard a very slight 'crack' followed by another, and the sound of swallowing. The demons stared at Neia unable to accept what they instantly concluded she must have just done. Blood was soaking through the hood and staining the floor where it lay after she'd cast it off, her chains were pulled tight at the wrists and she held her head and screamed in terrible pain.

"It hurts! It hurts..." Neia called out, and her voice was not her own again as she spoke. Her horrific reverberating voice slammed into the souls of all the minotaurs present, like a boulder being dropped on a soap bubble..

Her hands went out and were held close together, closer than the chains needed to be, as if offering something out to them adjudicator, "You are all dead. There will be wailing and the gnashing of teeth, happy will be those who bash the brains of your infants upon the rocks, unless you bend to the will of my god, you will be beasts of the field and rise no more. Wenmark and Wheaton, you will envy, and when wrath comes to devour you, only wrath will be your salvation. Bend to the black in the west, or it will come from the east and cover you like the earth over a grave, forever."

Her voice went silent, and she crashed to her knees clutching her head and wailing in pain, cracking her head against the stone floor and shaking until unconsciousness claimed her.

Demiurge, Vanysa, Pandora's Actor, and Albedo exchanged looks of mutual confusion and dismay. Their expressions all read the same, 'This was not part of the plan. What the hell was that?'

While around the empire, in city after city to see the broadcast, silence dominated like death in the tomb.


	18. Mysteries

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 18: Mysteries

_...Minotaur Kingdom..._

Mu'Sula got into the cart after they'd finished the minor errand of assisting Nua in acquiring the goods she needed. The crude building had seen better days, the wood was damaged, the floor was just dirt, but the keeper was friendly enough, if somewhat uncertain at the unexpected elven customer.

Still, she saw the slight widening in his already large bull eyes when he saw the platinum coin she drew out and laid on the counter. "M- I can't change this?!" He'd said with breathless awe.

Nua reached out and touched the keeper's arm. He was bare chested, as most of the minotaurs seemed to be, and so bare armed. She noted the unexpected softness of the thin coating of brown hairs that covered the flesh beneath, where hardened muscle lay. "This isn't just for my goods for today, I'll be needing regular resupply. I expect I'll be passing back and forth between here and the capital a great deal."

The minotaur shopkeep huffed and stamped his right hoof eagerly, "You have a bargain!" He said and pumped the fist with the platinum coin. "Get what you need, twenty percent off on everything, to celebrate our new... partnership, of sorts."

Nua walked out with an oversized pack loaded with goods, and with Mu'Sula staring at her like she was something out of a myth.

"What?" She asked blankly as she looked at him as she rucked the pack toward the cart he pointed out.

"How the hell did you get that much money?" Mu'Sula asked, his brow furrowed, "Are you some noble woman or something?"

Nua laughed loudly, "No, farthest thing from it. I'm just an ex-slave that got her back wages from the hand of god himself. But that's a story that is going to earn me my discount for the ride."

"I believe you." He said, and as she tossed her pack into the cart and got up in it, Mu'Sula braced himself at the crossbar and started to push, listening intently as Nua told the story of the fall of Kami Miyako, the last city of the old gods authority. Mu'Sula didn't utter a word the entire way. Not until she began to wind down the story, and the cart finally ground to a halt as they reached their destination.

"So... I saw miracles of all kinds in those last days of the war, out of the city I was dragged into as a plaything and a slave, I walked as a wealthy woman, and above all a free one. Now I'm here, to spread the glory of His Majesty, and free others from their weakness, as I was freed from mine. I still greatly dislike violence. But..." She smiled sweetly at the minotaur who now turned to look at her, and her eyes glowed with golden light, "during my training to become a priest of the holy lord, nobody could take a hit like I. I became the mistress of pain, because pain could not master me anymore. The one good thing I got from those Theocracy fucks, other than Raymond. So... did I earn my discount?" She asked sweetly as the golden light faded from her eyes.

"Yes, yes you did. How long will you be here for?" Mu'Sula asked with unexpected eagerness to hear more as coins changed hands.

Nua looked away and thought it over briefly, "I think I've got enough supplies for the week, shouldn't be hard to manage everything else, tell you what, I'll come out here at this spot next week, if you're here again, I'll take a ride back and tell you another story about what happened out there."

'Well... shit. I can't kill her now... I want another story!' Mu'Sula thought to himself and nodded intensely.

"That'll be a bargain, I can't wait." He said with a boyish kind of intensity to his voice as he stuck out his big, meaty hand. Nua took it, and he was shocked at the firmness of grip in the small palm.

"See you in a week then!" Nua said, "Next time I'll tell you about the day I met the voice and bloody hand of god." She managed a smile that was friendly enough, but when she spoke of it, he saw the tinge of gold spark in her deep blue eyes, and wondered what possessed the little elven woman who had, not long ago, seemed like such an easy mark.

_...Nazarick..._

Pain. Neia woke up in horrendous pain. From black nothingness, to white hot fire tearing through her skull. "It huuuuurts!" She wailed and shot up to a seated position, clutching her skull. "Make it stop! Make it stop! Make it stop!" She wailed, for a moment seeing nothing and recognizing nothing, not even she felt herself being pushed down to some impossible softness beneath her. A grip harder than iron on her shoulders. A voice, beautiful and motherly, terrible and commanding.

"Do it!" The voice ordered, and she heard the pop of a cork and the press of a substance against her lips, liquid ran over her tongue, and the pain began to fade away, until she felt absolutely nothing.

Her vision began to return when the pain ceased to blind her, and she looked around. Over her was standing one of her prosecutors, and her defender. She took in the room, and understanding slowly began to dawn.

"Where am I...? Lady Albedo? Vanysa? Is this...?" She didn't finish the question.

"This is the bed of the Sorcerer King." Albedo answered, and released her grip as it was evident that Neia had calmed herself.

"What happened?" Neia asked anxiously as she reached up and touched her forehead. She blinked in amazement when she saw that there were no chains on her wrists.

"What do you remember?" Vanysa asked in a far more delicate voice than Neia expected.

She looked down at the expensive covers that were over her lower body. "I... remember Dasis. I... you broke me. You broke me and... I killed him. I couldn't bear another word... I remember him talking about going free, I couldn't bear it and I tried to shut out the poison from his lips, I couldn't do that, and when he told his stories and I knew he'd walk free... I killed him. In front of everyone." Neia said in a hushed and quiet voice, smaller than she'd had in a long, long time.

She looked to meet Vanysa's storm gray eyes. "Congratulations, I guess. You win, even if they don't hang me... I'm never going to be free. Not after that." Neia said, and turned her eyes to Lady Albedo. "I'm... sorry, My Lady. You and Pandora's Actor worked hard, but I screwed it up, I lost all reason, and now it was all for nothing, and Gagaran will have been proven right."

Vanysa kept her lips pursed tight. When Neia finished speaking, the demoness of vengeance said a gentle, "I'm sorry. I really am. But... before we get to that, that is the last thing you remember? Nothing else?"

"Was there more? Oh god!" Neia's eyes flew open wide, "How many? Did I hurt my friends! Who else did I kill?!"

"None. That isn't why she asks." Albedo's voice was very quiet, "Before you ask... His Majesty is speaking with Demiurge in his lab. After you killed Dasis, you turned your attention to the other minotaurs and, some say threatened, some say warned, that unless they submit, that they will die. You remember none of it?"

Neia slowly shook her head. "No... I remember... pain, so much pain, but it wasn't really mine, even though I felt it."

The door to the bedroom opened, and Neia looked to the sound in time to see Ainz Ooal Gown enter the room with Demiurge following behind him.

"You caused quite a stir, my child, how are you?" Ainz asked as he approached and stood near Neia's head and reached out to touch the cheek of the Black Paladin.

"Horrible, father." Neia replied and covered his finger bones with her hand, "I screwed it all up, I killed that man, and now there's no chance for me in that trial, the whole empire saw a monster. Nobody is going to say 'let her go' after that. I'll be lucky if I'm not just executed. People like it when the monsters defend them, but that doesn't mean they want us wandering free."

"Don't think about that for now, you were returned here for immediate treatment, the Minotaur Kingdom couldn't agree fast enough after you borderline threatened them with extermination. Though there seems to be some debate about that." Ainz replied and moved his hand up over her forehead.

"I suppose I should congratulate you too, Lord Demiurge." Neia said unhappily.

"Congratulate me?" The demon inquired.

Neia managed a self deprecating smile. "After that, well I know you've been chomping at the bit to see what you can do with me, looks like it'll be sooner rather than later, I mean you did get me to kill a witness... not that I'm about to apologize for it." Her sky blue eyes faded and dulled, "He deserved it, worse than that. I couldn't let him just go back to his life but... it was ill advised of me."

Demiurge inclined his head and pushed his glasses up against his eyes, "Thank you, it was one of my more well thought out plans, after learning that His Majesty intended to launch an investigation, I knew quite well that I would be chosen to bring you down, and the best way to do that, was to attack you where you are weakest, with the mistreatment that got you so enraged in the first place. It was easy to secure a breaker or two, someone who didn't look like a person who would do the things they did routinely. A promise of freedom and a return to normalcy like they'd never worked their atrocities before... you wouldn't be able to let that go. Though I didn't think you'd go as far as you did."

Neia flung herself back on the bed of her father with her arms open out wide across it and stared at the ceiling. She laughed, "You knew me better than I knew myself, and from the look of things, you had help with that, didn't he, Vanysa?"

"Yes, lots." The demoness remarked unhappily, "It wasn't personal, just orders and... in a way, it was for you too. If you walked away from all that, your sense of justice would never let you rest."

"Maybe not." Neia said noncommittally, "So, why are you here anyway, come to gloat?" She asked with resignation.

"No, they're here to tell you what happened. And to take care of you while we find some way to manage it." Ainz explained and stroked the straw gold hair that fell and framed the worn out expression of the warrior pope.

"I see. I think. Well... what can you tell me?" Neia asked with trepidation.

"Bluntly put, we think you're a prophet." Demiurge said and then shut his mouth.

Neia gave him a look of blank incomprehension with her lips pursed tight.

"You see possible futures. It took a little reading in the archives, but according to some books of the supreme one, devoted servants of god could know the future before it happened." He elaborated with an intrigued smile as he looked at her, like an interesting specimen in his lab.

"But... I know no such thing!" Neia exclaimed, "I've never... why now?" She said as she looked up at the skeletal face of the Sorcerer King.

"My followers grow in number every day, as they grow, so does your capacity as a servant. Though it appears to have a terrible price for you, which we do not yet understand. In the second world, 'prophet' was a job that certain faith based classes could acquire, it gave them foreknowledge of threats as if they were present when the decision to make threats was first uttered. I would surmise that your actions in Kirakira prison have set the Minotaur Kingdom on a path to conflict with the Devor Empire, and through them, the Mixtlan Empire and the Tlalmok Empire, all three members of the Triumvirate in the center of the continent. What you said, suggested that the minotaurs will face an unwinnable war, and that they will either turn to me, or die. Or so I interpreted it." Ainz said as he continued to stroke her hair.

"The pain... why so much pain...?" She asked with her pupils growing and shrinking as she looked up at him.

"That was the pain you foresaw. I suspect." Demiurge remarked clinically.

"I... don't know what to say, although perhaps ironically it should be to ask, what happens now?" She smiled bitterly and caressed the back of the Sorcerer King's hand.

"You will go back to Kirakira prison and be allowed to wait out the remainder of the trial there. You will not return to the pavilion unless you are needed to testify or to hear the verdict. I assume you have much to do in the prison anyway, don't you?" Ainz asked expectantly, and a genuine smile came over Neia's face.

"Father, even you might doubt me if I said how much. Before I leave, to whatever end, another land will be on the path to kneeling before the Throne of Kings and swearing loyalty to you forever." She relaxed her entire body as sensation began to return to her flesh as the potion lost effect.

"I dare not ask to stay in your bed... but may I be permitted to rest awhile somewhere before I am sent back to prison? I find myself very sleepy." Neia asked hopefully.

"Rest here, I will have Albedo and Pandora's Actor return you when the time comes." Ainz said gently, "For now, rest without fear."

_...Kirakira Prison..._

"So... that was an unexpectedly good time." Raymond said as the carriage drew up to the prison where Neia was held.

Solution looked suitably smug, while Raymond felt equal parts sore and relaxed, her cocky smile was as 'charming' as ever. "Don't have to tell me, I was there." She laughed mockingly. "Have to make sure His Majesty's plan is successful after all, and you're an important witness, can't have you all stressed out and tense."

"I still don't quite understand that part." Raymond said thoughtfully.

She stared daggers at him and folded her arms in front of her ample chest as if she'd been insulted.

"Not that. What makes me an important witness." He said sardonically and folded his arms in front of his muscled frame.

"Oh." Solution responded rapidly, and went on, "Because you're a witness to what the Theocracy did, you know absolutely everything, almost everybody else who can speak with authority has perished, usually painfully."

"So why am I here? Isn't this where Neia is being held?" Raymond asked with the confusion not even slightly lifted.

"Yes, apparently she's been... busy, while here. His Majesty wants you to see this before you testify tomorrow. That is, 'if' they do it tomorrow. Nope, don't ask." Solution closed her eyes, shook her head, and held the flat of her palm up in front of herself for emphasis. "You'll find out soon enough what chaos was sown by bringing the demon you created, into Menowa."

Raymond frowned, "I didn't create her." He said through gritted teeth and his eyes flashed with anger.

Solution smiled the monstrous smile that took up most of her face, and her slime hand reached out and caressed his cheek, "Oh my, you're so scary when you're angry, such a marvelous demon in human skin... but still a bit of a fool. You had as much a hand as any of the other cardinals in what happened. Not just by what you did, but by what you didn't do. I heard that the Pope said something once, something you might want to keep in mind."

"What's that?" He asked sullenly as he tried to ignore that silky smooth caress of her hand on his cheek.

'If you're willing to bear any consequences, then there is nothing you cannot do.' "Look at her, she was willing to endure anything to destroy your nation, to free the elves, to defeat Remedios, to bring our common god to prominence. It all but destroyed her, she may very well die here because of it. But she was willing to endure, because next to her goals, the cost was nothing. You could have gone farther to save your nation, but the consequences of what you'd have had to do, were too great. You'll blossom into a wonderful demon one day, Raymond Zarg Larrenson, and I can't wait to see it." Solution smirked and drew back her hand as the last Cardinal looked reflectively out the window at the looming stone walls.

'That... hit uncomfortably close to home.' He thought inwardly, but aloud he replied to her in a calm tone, "Nobody knows the future, but I doubt that, I don't know what His Majesty wants me to see here, and I still don't understand why I am supposed to be as useful as he thinks as a witness. What can I say that hasn't been part of the public record already? That hasn't already been said?"

Solution's voice became oddly praising, "You're an important human, or were, your words will carry weight, not just with those who are in positions now that were like the one you used to hold. But also with the humans of the former theocracy who are in denial about everything their country did. Would you believe that there are humans who are denying that anything was all that bad for the elves? Why deny the breaker schools or the casual exterminations?" She rolled her eyes, "So stupid."

Raymond's jaw dropped, "Don't they run tours now in Yaksun to show the horrors that took place in that city? Don't the survivors speak up about it? The witnesses are numerous, hell there were numerous people involved in creating the implements of pain for profit, those can still be held in hand. How can anyone deny it?!" He asked, aghast.

"Like I said. Stupid. They don't want to believe it, they don't want to admit it. So... they lie. Or swallow lies others tell so that they have an excuse to not accept what stares them in the face. You Raymond, will deprive them of that comfort before the entire world as a Cardinal of the Theocracy. You will be asked hard questions, and you will speak as you and you alone can do. I begrudge you humans praise... but some of you have... gifted tongues." She barely restrained a titter of laughter before she pressed on in seriousness.

"Use the skills you honed as a leader of humans, tell the truth, as His Majesty commands. And you may accomplish the goal that matters even more to him than that, or so I think." Solution said in calm, cold detachment.

Raymond had ceased to look out the window of the carriage and turned his focus to the oddly serious maid demon. "What is that?" He asked with a troubled, furrowed brow.

Solution met furrowed brow with furrowed brow, and stare with stare, then replied with calm reason in her voice, "I'd have thought that was obvious. You're the only chance there is, to save the life of Neia Baraja."


	19. Plots

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 19: Plots

_...Throne room of the Ard Rhi of the Minotaur Kingdom..._

"Did... she threaten to wipe us out? Did that... human... threaten to wipe us out?!" General Mu'Alexius raged and slammed his fist against the wall of stone.

Mu'Akrotiri remained calm and quiet as the larger minotaur raged in fury, a feeling of relief swelled in his breast that the Ard Rhi and Ard Rhigan had kept their collective cool when the events of the trial made their way back to the castle.

"I don't believe so. I believe that was a warning, not a threat, it only makes sense, after all, she lives in the west, not the east, and she spoke of salvation coming from her direction. More to the point, I've met her. I don't believe she would threaten us over what is happening now." Mu'Akrotiri reasoned.

"You are sure?" The Ard Rhigan asked with trepidation in her voice, she wasn't looking at them, the prince and princess were scuffling a few feet away from the throne, only a year apart, they were only four and three respectively, and already showing that they took after both their parents. She saw her passion in her daughter, Princess Mu'Lin, and her husband's steady hand in Prince Mu'fon.

Akrotiri huffed in silence for a few uncomfortable minutes as he scratched the base of his mouth in thought. "I say yes. She has no reason to hate us. From what we've been hearing, she treats even our prisoners and guards with respect, more interested in converting our people than anything else. I wonder if..."

He trailed off.

"She could be an incarnation of Kiril's Angel." The Ard Rhi said in a solemn voice.

"In the body of a human? When has that ever happened?" The general replied scornfully and slammed a fist into his open hand. "No, I say we should treat this like the threat it is, send someone to give her a sound thrashing and teach the human not to reach too far beyond herself." General Mu'Alexius ground his teeth as he spoke, and his eyes went red with the beginnings of his berserker rage. He drew it back, but his words carried weight beyond his temper.

"If she really is Kiril's Angel... then even one of our champions couldn't defeat her, no matter what body holds the soul." The Ard Rhi added in a more reasonable tone.

"I was in the audience." Mu'Akrotiri replied calmly, "She drew on the force of the divine, or I'm a Kiril damned goblin. Any champion we sent, would only be turned into muck, and all the best champions are on the border anyway, dealing with the occasional raiders from the Devor Empire. If she wins, we've lost valuable, precious weapons. If she loses, we've gained nothing except maybe an enemy of her lord."

The Ard Rhi's eyes brightened. "What if... that made her lord an ally?"

"Husband...?" The Ard Rhigan asked, "You can't be thinking what I think you're thinking."

"I am." He said with great tranquility, and his advisors stared at him in eager expectation.

The Ard Rhi held his hands to either side of him as if weighing his options as he began to speak in the low, wise voice they'd become accustomed to. "She was to be housed in Kirakira prison for the convenience of the trial, but... after what happened, it will offer some comfort for her to be stationed... far away from it. We have gotten a number of petitions to have her moved, isolated. I propose that we move her to the farthest east of our Kingdom, there's an outpost there that is persistently threatened with being overrun. It has a small prison facility where we throw our Penitent corps. Toss her in that, make the orders open to interpretation, and the incompetent dolt may even decide to throw her into the fight with the rest of them. If she 'is' Kiril's Angel... she will exact a brutal toll on Devor raiders. If she is 'not' Kiril's Angel, then she dies and it is all their fault. No doubt the Sorcerer King would happily help us to avenge his daughter. And even if she does die, if she is as fierce as you think she is, Mu'Akrotiri, then she may yet save many of our people's lives."

Mu'Alexius felt his fingers tense. "She might defend herself and inflict some casualties, but while I've heard the stories of her... excesses, it all seems highly exaggerated. A squad of ten who lose to five will tell the story as if they faced five hundred, an army of thirty thousand will speak of its defeat by an equal number, as if they faced an army of a hundred thousand. Warriors of all kinds will exaggerate to save their reputations and their pride. She may be mighty for a human facing humans, or even some underfed criminals. But what can something so small do against beastmen?"

He gritted his teeth in frustration as he asked the question, and then asked another, "Even if she could... why should she? We're the ones putting her on trial."

The Ard Rhi tapped his meaty fingers on the armrest of his throne and looked over to where his children scuffled still. "They play, because they are children, they don't need to be taught to do it, it is part of their nature. A fish will swim because it is a fish, even if you take it from the river and put it in a tank. A warrior will fight because they are a warrior, even if they are in a foreign land. If she truly is Kiril's Angel, we won't have to ask her, we just need to stay out of the way while she does what she would do naturally."

_...Forton..._

When the population watching the trial heard the things the former worker at the Breaker Academy in Wheaton speak, there were thousands of bloody lips as elves, and even some humans, bit their lips in barely suppressed rage. But he became a sideshow as the 'view' focused on the unexpected response of the Pope. The desperate muffles, the attempt at shutting her ears with her chained hands that couldn't spread far enough to close off hearing from both ears at once.

Her desperation was palpable, even as the demonic woman teased ever more details and 'examples' out of the human witness.

With their heads craned up in the great open square at the images and sounds being carried by the complex web of magic, there was not an ear that did not catch the crashing sound of her smashing her head on the table to try to drown out everything she was forced to relive behind her hidden eyes.

When the force hit the pavilion and her yowling rage was on full monstrous display threatening to crush those around her as she turned her hate and wrath on the witness, the city was in quiet awe. The massive projected views showed the depth of rage in the red points that danced in the infinite dark that were her eyes.

When Vanysa fell and cracked her knees and howled at the sudden pain, still nobody within the city who saw the scene, even blinked. Nobody made a sound, until the wrath was focused to a point, and before the eyes of the city, the breaker was turned to a puddle of mangled blood, bone, and flesh.

Aorli watched it from her balcony, and began to dance for joy as the breaker died, only to stop cold when the pope held out her hands and foretold doom and deliverance, before agony in her head overwhelmed the obvious pain in the parts of her body that had already been shredded, and she fell into what must have been a blessed unconsciousness.

The noise of the city hit her like a thunderclap out of a clear sky. 'OK, they're going to want answers... and they're not the only ones.' Aorli thought grimly. 'I think I need to reach out to my sister, no doubt she'll be asking questions of her own.'

_...Crescent Lake..._

Bertra hung her head in shame as she listened to the scene play out, unable to look up to watch. Her face was visibly reflected back at her in the silver platter on the table in front of her, her long ears impossible not to notice. She reached up and touched them. 'My humanity... seems so far away right now... if that man up there could do it... he'd do that to me too. I'm an elf now... he's talking about how he'd break 'me', not some 'other' nameless unfortunate. It's like if poison were given a body and a voice to speak. How could I have ever defended 'that'?' She wondered with a sense of disgust roiling in the pit of her stomach.

But when the noise started from the Pope's table, then she looked up. When the breaker died, and Neia had lost consciousness, and chaos gripped the pavilion, all she could feel was a mix of shame, disgust, and relief. It left her distracted in the extreme, so much so that she missed the presence of the person near her until he placed his arm on her shoulder.

"You alright?" The voice asked sympathetically.

She looked up to the source of the sound, and found herself looking at a man of moderate build, with one ear cut and the other intact, he had the angular face of his race, but unusually enough, he had his blonde hair cropped short. His voice was like that of a lute, and his eyes had a pleasant golden hue that sparkled when the sun caught his face.

"Oh... sorry, yes. It was just... hearing all that was a bit much, seeing all that was... worse, I suppose." Bertra responded humbly.

"May I join you?" He asked, and she numbly gestured to the seat across from her.

As he sat, he spoke, "I understand." He pointed to the still mutilated left ear. He had a gentle voice, and looked at her with such abiding sympathy that she wondered what stories were held between the imperfect and the perfect ears on his head.

'No... you don't.' She thought numbly, but outwardly she said, "He got what was coming to him."

"Yes, he did." The elven male said emphatically.

"I'm Bertra." She said politely.

"Lovien, Lovien of house Alu." He said in his musical voice, and held his hand out to her.

Bertra hesitated, but took it after a moment and then withdrew it again after the brief greeting.

"Can I offer you some of my tea?" Betra asked as the awkward silence began, and waved her hand over the tray, "They gave me two cups for some reason."

Lovien smiled charmingly, "They always do that here, the owners who serve this area like to encourage people to keep each other company."

"It's a nice practice." Bertra smiled weakly, "But I'm not much for good company right now, stay seated at your own risk."

Lovien shook his head, "Maybe not, but who is, after that? Honestly... it is still unreal to me to have a 'human' champion. Not something I imagined eighty years ago. Not something I imagined even eight years ago, for that matter."

Bertra looked at the mutilated left ear without meaning to, "I'd imagine not. But after that display, I wonder if she won't be lost to... us." She snapped her head away when he touched the damaged ear.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to stare." She looked down and hastily poured the tea and laid the cup in front of him.

"It's alright, most heal everything, I chose to do only part, so I wouldn't forget someone. They didn't get out like I did." Lovien remarked as he took the tea from in front of him.

After he took a sip, he added, "I don't know about 'her' though. Killing him might not have helped her cause but... after everything that was said, who knows? Nobody is going to sympathize with that witness. If enough stories go around about the things she saw, maybe she'll draw enough sympathy to be released, or at least enough that my savior will not be put to death."

"Your savior?" Bertra asked, "Were you one of her rescues then?"

He gave a grim and bitter smile. "One of the farms around Wheaton. I never got to tell her thank you, never got to speak with her, she'd never recognize me if she saw me but... I'll never forget that day. The orcs showed up, brought me to her army, and I was free, along with the rest of us."

"You know... I run the bookshop around the corner from here, I've been taking the stories of former slaves and sending them out for distribution... if these stories become widespread, it may influence her fate as people see the ways of the Theocracy for what they were... wrong." Bertra suggested tentatively.

Lovien pursed his lips, "I have no talent for writing."

"Then let me help you. Come by my store this evening if you have time, and I'll get you started." Bertra proposed, "I'll even throw in some evening tea if you're tired."

The corners of Lovien's lips turned up slightly. "I'll take you up on that, if there's a chance it will help, I owe it to her to take it. I appreciate the help, Bertra."

She felt a jolt run through her body as he answered, "Ah, yes of course. But I should get back to the shop, it looks like what I came to see is over for the day and I have nobody to mind the place."

"As you say, I'll see you this evening, don't mind the tea, I'll finish it up and pay for it, call it an... advance on paying for your help in writing out the story of my life in the Theocracy. With my meager skills, it isn't possible for this to be done without a skilled beta reader, so... thank you in advance."

Bertra gave him a pleasant smile, if somewhat awkward, and rising from her chair, she hurried away while Lovien waved farewell behind her.

_...Menowa..._

Finding a building proved easy as walking through a gate. 'Ah poverty, it may be a terrible thing, but... on the plus side, it means I can acquire what I need very inexpensively, even here.' She thought practically as she walked from lot to lot on the main thoroughfare. The roads were cobblestone, but cheap, and many a stone was missing from its proper place, leaving the occasional gap. The buildings, likewise, were mostly made of wood, and again in less than the best shape. The minotaurs she saw were mostly vigorous looking, but more than once she saw the look of one who had lived on the edge of life and death. 'I must file that away for later, but from their weakness, I will work the will of god and forge strength.' As she came to a building that appeared at a favorable location, a corner lot that was right at the outer edge of the road, the pavilion, and an open square... that was also empty, conveniently enough, a thought occurred to her. "Wow... what a difference freedom makes... a few years ago... just a few years ago and I couldn't look at a stranger without fear and barely suppressed hatred. Now...? I can fight back, I can kill, and I can look even these mighty beasts in the eyes."

Her eyes turned to the northwest, toward Argland after she spoke to herself under her breath. 'Raymond, are you still in prison there? Did they hang you? Probably not but... are you alright? Are your chains weighing lightly on you... please, be alright, I'll keep my promise, I'll find my way to you again, and bring you out of wherever you are.' She suppressed an impulse to cry out to him across the nations, and reached out with a steady hand to take the sign off the door advertising the space for rent or sale, and walked in.

Shabby. Dirty. Empty. Each word occurred to her in quick succession. An old minotaur with more frail limbs than she knew minotaurs could possess, sat alone at a desk reading a book. A tuft of gray fur hung below his mouth and his body trembled slightly from the weight of age resting over him. He was thinner than he should have been. 'Not eating well.' She surmised.

When he saw that it was an elf that entered his establishment, he just stared. "Hello?" She asked, waving her hand in front of her as if to get his attention.

It snapped him out of his stupor. "Sorry," he mumbled, "never had an elf in here."

"That a problem?" She asked bluntly as she squared her shoulders.

He shook his head, "Only if you're not here to rent the place." He answered.

"I'm not." She answered with blunt force in her voice.

"Then get out." He said and pointed to the door.

"I'm here to buy it." She replied just as bluntly, ignoring his instruction.

He pointed to the crudely made chair on the other side of his crudely made desk. "Then sit down." His tone of voice hadn't changed in the slightest, but in the dim light of the candle that flickered in the filthy building, she caught his eyes. There was a very slight widening there, a sign Nua had long since learned to associate with a universal sense of 'greed'.

"Name your price." She said bluntly as she tossed her pack out of the way and yanked the seat brashly and slung it around till it slid under her descending butt. Her brashness seemed to have his attention as much as her well dressed appearance, and he rubbed the gray furs as he looked her up and down.

'Sliding scale of sale I'd say, it's fine, this is my first impression, I will not give the representatives of my god a reputation for cheapness. An ungenerous god is not loved.' She mentally recited the lesson on interacting with strangers, and waited patiently until he finished his appraisal.

"This is a great spot." He remarked tentatively.

"It was, when people had money to spend." She said sardonically.

That shut him up, and he lowered his head resignedly. "Buying this lot will cost seven platinums."

"Take ten and it's a deal." She replied, and his eyes went wider than before as she began to take out her coins and slap them down one by one in front of him.

He looked from the coins to her and back again as if not understanding what just happened.

"A token of reverence for an old one on hard times, generous is my god, so generous must we of Black Justice, also be, else we shame him. As he blesses us, so we must be a blessing to this world." She said in pious reverence.

He didn't argue as he swept the coins off the table and into his hand which waited just beyond the edge. He then yanked a deed and a key ring of bronze with some cheap iron keys on it, out of the drawer and slapped both down in front of himself. He bit his finger and signed his name in blood.

"Fill your part out whenever, just scrawl your mark on there as the new owner, and the place is yours." He said with barely suppressed excitement.

To his surprise, Nua drew a knife from her side, sliced her finger open at the tip, squeezed it lightly, and scrawled her name in blood in front of him. "Ink is easier but... your country, your ways." She said respectfully.

That respect was returned in his expression as he stood up. "I hope you prosper here. I thought I'd die here waiting for someone to want the only thing I had left. Now I can rest easy in my last two or three years of life."

"If I prosper, so will my god, if my god prospers, so will the people here. By the way, do you know anything about the other three lots, I didn't see anyone using them... and if I could expand this place some after I've fixed it up..." She began to say and then stopped when he laughed.

"What's funny?" She asked quizzically.

"You just bought'em, all four'a these are mine, elf girl. The back right is what passes for a house, the right side facing the square used to be a tavern, this place used to be a guild registration office, and the one on the left was a small inn. You thought you were buyin this measly place? No, build whatever you want, but if you buy more, read the deed next time." He laughed at her again, but kindly enough as he waved goodbye and walked out.

She was stretching out as she stood up and then clapped her hands together and rubbed them eagerly. 'OK, I need to get craftsmen here to fix this place up. I'd like to employ locals if I can, I can make it all into one temple, but I'll need proper stone and other materials, damn... I want to requisition a gate but... I might have to just piggy back off the next official one to get supplies hauled in. OK, this might be tougher than I thought.' As she pondered all that she'd have to do to establish the first temple to the Sorcerer King in the Minotaur Kingdom, her sensitive ears picked up the sound of screaming from the pavilion. Her heart pounded in her chest, but she didn't flinch away, here ears told her that nobody was running from the sound.

She snatched up her keys and dashed out the door. There was stillness from those around her, the minotaurs of the city of Menowa didn't seem to know what to do at the unexpected sound of nearby chaos. Her sharp elven eyes told her that nobody was fleeing 'away' from the chaos either.

'Which means they can't likely run at all, and I don't hear any fighting either. I know of only one force in the world that can cause an experience like that to great numbers, either he's here, or his voice is.' She didn't have to run, and she didn't even give a backward glance to where her goods were sitting in the unlocked building, the pounding in her heart told her this was too important to miss.

So she hurried across the small open area and crossed the street to the entrance, and saw from just beyond the reach of the terrible pressure, the bowed heads and trembling bodies as those seated tried to resist the irresistible, and a familiar figure let loose rage, and slowly brought it to a point, releasing the pressure off of the masses, and killing one very unfortunate human.

"You..." She uttered as the memory of those terrible eyes loomed large, the way Neia had looked at Raymond the first time, the promise of death, the fury she promised to unleash as she showed them Wenmark. Nua remembered the swelling of pity she'd felt for the woman, and at the same time... the dread of becoming too much like her if she didn't learn to let go of her own past, and her admiration of her will and the glory of the lord they now shared. It all came and went in an instant, the span of a single scream, and then it was past and another breaker had been erased from her world. The pounding of her heart only increased and her chest rose and fell faster and faster from the excitement.

"Calm down, dummy. You knew the trial was here, you can't be surprised." Nua rubbed her cheek thoughtfully as the memories ran their course. But when the ominous words of prophecy poured out of the lips of the Black Paladin, she came to another thought that she had not dreamt of the day before.

'Whatever that was, I know this, I must gather not only followers for my god, I must forge them into an army. Better requisition some weapons from the temples in the empire as well along with the shipment of stone. I think we're going to need them someday.' Nua bit her lip and backed slowly away from the exit and returned to her goods.


	20. Making Up

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 20: Making Up

Neia lay quietly in the bed of her divine father. 'Albedo's perfume.' She thought to herself as she snuggled into the huge pillow, 'I'll bet she lies in here all the time. What a wonderful and thoughtful thing to do for my Lord.' Neia thought as she closed her eyes and savored the rising warmth of the sheets.

'Her children will be very lucky to have a mother who loves them so well.' Neia pondered with envy and tried to picture what they would be like. She found quickly that she couldn't. 'I'll need to redouble my efforts... and add new items and new things in nature to the list of priorities for the my explorer priests, somewhere out there, there will be materials that will let my lord become as he wills, and sire the brilliant heirs every empire needs to be well ruled.' Neia pondered that in idleness before she drifted off.

However her eyes snapped open when she heard a voice that always stabbed her in the heart.

"Are you... awake?" Tuare asked.

Neia clutched the pillow as hard as she could. "I... yes. Yes I am. Did you need something?" She asked hesitantly.

"I... no, well... I wanted to talk, really." Tuare wrung her hands in front of her, and as she turned her eyes over the slender maid, she noticed the girl tenderly caressing the wrist Neia had accidentally snapped.

Guilt ran through her like a stampede of horses, and she slowly sat up in bed and rested her back against the headboard. "Yes...?" She asked with her eyes lowered to the sheets.

"It's been awhile, hasn't it?" Tuare asked in the timid voice she always had.

"Doesn't feel like it, it seems like only yesterday that Kami Miyako was on the verge of collapse, I haven't seen you since the day I met your price, so... what did you want to say to me now? Did you come to tell me I brought this on myself? Did you come to tell me you'll sleep better from now on, now that I've basically thrown away my chances for the sake of one more brutal killing?" Neia snorted and looked away, she folded her arms decisively in front of her small chest and muttered, "I already knew those things."

Tuare shook her head vigorously and brought her hands up into small fists in front of herself, "No, I came to tell you not to give up!"

"What?" Neia whirled her head over to face her former victim and looked at her as if she didn't quite understand what Tuare had said.

Tuare rushed around to the side of the bed, only a foot away from the woman who'd once become the cause of renewed nightmares. "I said, don't give up!"

Neia stared at her, "Are you Pandora's Actor just screwing with me here... because if you are, it isn't funny."

Tuare turned red in the face, reached out, and slapped Neia sharply across her cheek.

The Black Paladin looked up at Tuare, then touched her spot where the maid struck it.

The little maid's words poured out like a waterfall, "No! I'm me! I'm Tuareninya, I know you didn't expect to hear this from me... and... and I know you must feel like half of those you love and respect best have turned on you but... but it isn't true! And more importantly I saw! I saw what you did to that man! And what his words did to you..."

She grabbed at Neia's wrist and held it as tight as her feeble strength could manage, and Neia looked up at the lovely little woman, "Listen to me! Lord Ainz hates this even more than you do, I've cleaned his office sometimes since this began, I've done it many times over the last few years, and when he goes over things pertaining to you, I can feel his anxiousness. He's not the only one! Lord Cocytus, Sebas, even Vanysa wants you to go free. Please believe me, it isn't over yet. So don't give up, OK?"

Neia smiled up at the maid as broadly as she ever had, "You're quite an amazing girl, Tuareninya. Sebas is lucky to have you."

The maid blushed a little, but carried on, "I have forgiven you for what you did to me, I know it was an accident... I've learned a lot about what you dealt with, and that made forgiving you easier. But that won't do you any good unless you forgive yourself at least a little, too. You made a mistake, but don't cling to it forever, if I haven't, you shouldn't either. Besides... you killed the sort of man today... who would have been a regular visitor to the hell that was my former life. You'll save or avenge many in the future. But only if you get through this. Just don't lose yourself, and I will be proud to serve you, not terrified of it." She then drew Neia's hand up, and lowered her face to kiss the Pope upon the back of her hand.

"You'd make a kinder and wiser pope than I, I think." Neia said with genuine praise in her voice as Tuare stepped away from her.

"I hope I live to see the world that needs a pope like that." Tuare said with the gentle smile on her face that she knew her husband deeply loved to see.

"Me too... and by the way... thank you." Neia said and lowered herself back down into the sheets, cuddled against the blanket, thoughts of her wife and their child to be running through her head as she drifted off to sleep again.

_...Hoburns..._

Skana watched from the balcony as her wife thrashed and wailed first in a rage, and then in agony, half a world away. "Why... why is this happening to her..." She shook like a leaf, reminded of the helpless time when she was nothing but a weak peasant watching through the woods as demihumans destroyed her village and ruined her life. Then the way it felt when she was a captive and first beheld the woman who was now screaming to the world to make the pain stop, after having utterly destroyed the body of the human that stood against her.

Skana clutched the stone of the palace balcony tight enough that she felt the stone give slightly beneath her grip, and crack. "What else... why must I always watch... why... why...? I can't even go to her!" Skana begged for answers that the woman whose arms folded around her, could not give.

Queen Calca wrapped her arms around the young warrior woman... the second most dangerous woman she'd ever known... and so hard was Skana's heart beating in her chest, that even pressed against her back, through cloth and flesh of her own, that Queen Calca could still feel it pounding within.

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..." Calca whispered comfortingly into Skana's ear and tightened her embrace as much as she could. The body of the warrior woman was at odds with her own in all ways. Where Calca's body was soft, Skana's felt like it was carved out of wood and polished smooth, ripcord muscles were reflected in even the smallest gestures, and it was easy to forget that the one eyed woman who was the lover of the demon of the west, was just a young woman herself.

Except... in moments like this. Skana's pregnancy was now obvious, and her body was racked and spasming with sobs while Neia's body, already bloodstained and begun to shred from the use of that terrible aura to crush the one she hated, was further wounded when she smashed her head on the stone at her feet in her desperate attempt to stop the pain coming from within.

"I... don't even know what that is... what just happened... but please be calm. She's alive, she's alive, she'll get better, you'll see her again!" Calca promised urgently, "Just remember your duty as the acting Pope and commander of the armies of the faithful! Go out and speak to the public in every city, do as she does, encourage confidence in justice even when people care more about seeing the end they want."

"This is why I can't really be a pope. I'm not Neia." Skana said and slowly turned around to take Calca's hands. "I love His Majesty as a father in law, I'm loyal, I follow him, I believe in him. But even for all that… all I want is my wife back home." Skana's eyes welled up, "What is just to the rest of the world, is unjust to me! Unjust to our baby! I don't care about the world, all I want is her home again!" She said with desperate urgency. "I'll do my best, I'll tell stories of what we saw together, what she's done and what she endures… but with her friends and allies arrayed against her as they are now, all I want is to be with her. Not out here." A trembling smile made its way to Skana's lips as she weakly brushed away a stray auburn hair from her face.

"Not exactly a woman of legend, huh?" She sniffled derisively.

Calca brushed back the hair of Skana the bold, tilting the warrior woman's face up so that they were eye to eye, and said with matronly gentleness, "Maybe not of legend, but of a sort anyone with a heart would understand. Use that. She may be a grandiose speaker of rare order, but don't try to be that. Just be you, pass from [Gate] to [Gate] city to city, and touch hearts in ways even she can't do. With the simple loving appeal of one to another, to understand not only why this is happening, but what good may come from it. Calm the elves, move the humans, make the dwarves cry in their beards and the orcs toast her courage. You can do this, you can endure, I believe in you."

"Thank you… I'll need a bath, but then… then I think I'll be ready to go out there and do what I need to do, what she needs me to do, and I won't fail her." Skana said with a confident air that marked her once again under Calca's eyes as the warrior she knew.

_...Kirakira Prison..._

Mu'Ulm swung his wooden axe at the elf, only to find that not only did he miss, but the damn thing got under it easily and hit him on the leg without even trying.

The damned elf just kept dancing around him, his unusual acrobatics were maddening. Finally Mu'Ulm slammed his ax down with frustration, kicking up dirt as he did so. "Why can't I hit you little bastards?!" He snapped, and the elf stepped back and pointed to the ax.

"Because of that." The slender elf pointed to the ax itself. "You minotaurs are very strong, very big, so you've gotten the idea that bigger is better, and... sure that ax looks very impressive, and I'll bet it could bring down a horse in one swing, or even break up a formation. But it's almost useless in anything else, any twit can see it coming a mile away. We're tailor made to fight bigger than us, even up close. Neia wanted us to be that way, so we could fight beings like you. You're just not adapted to our methods. We could do this all day, and the outcome wouldn't change."

Had the elven warrior's tone been mocking, things might have gotten ugly, but he kept his voice professional and critical, ticking off his points and explaining the defect.

"I can't fight like that! Minotaurs are not good for acrobatics." Mu'Ulm pointed out begrudgingly.

"No, you're not, or for archery, from the way your arms move. We need to adapt this to your own people's physical qualities. Blend methods so that they work. Maybe change your equipment up to allow more flexibility." The elf thought the matter over.

"Your grips are good but... what if... wait here please." The elf said and rushed over to where the carpenter was working, a few whispered words and a handful of minutes later, the elf came back holding a very large, round wooden shield.

"Try this. It's crude, but... swing it." The elf said confidently.

Mu'Ulm brought it back and forth across his body a few times, first slowly, then faster.

"Harder to avoid, good protection, and if you use a smaller ax..." He held out an ax half the size of the one in Mu'Ulm's weapon hand, and the enormous minotaur reluctantly took it.

It swung faster and closer, "You're a large people, getting up close is better, use the shield to create distance when you need it and to guard against faster opponents, and use your smaller ax to get in close and really hack away at it."

Mu'Ulm chewed on his tongue as he thought about what the elf was saying, he was still turning the matter over when the elf brought over the practice dummy.

"Give it a try." He suggested tentatively and held his arms out as if presenting the target while he stepped clear.

The huge shield cracked hard on the dummy, secure to its springy surface, it slammed down to the ground and then snapped up, only to be smacked by the wooden ax, bounce against the ground on the other side, and then as it came backup, it was bashed in the neck by the ax as it flowed smoothly the other way.

Mu'Ulm's heart began to race with excitement he hadn't felt in a long time. He began to improvise, alternating different blows and motions to move around and strike at different points of the dummy, with both his smaller ax and his heavy shield, it proved a potent combination that began to draw the eyes of not only the prisoners above, but the guards above.

"Amazing." Mu'Ulm said breathlessly, "I want to try this out on her, when she gets back." He added with a huffing laugh that spoke of battle hunger.

"Oh you haven't seen anything yet." The instructor remarked with a grin. "After we work this out, we're going to adapt it, and show you how one can be greater than one hundred."

Mu'Ulm looked at him as if he had gone mad, but the elf only laughed as the various instructors, seeing that their students were distracted by the new method, called a halt and enough shields and short axes had to be produced for all of them to practice.

_...E-Rantel...Arwintar...Hoburns...Kami Miyako...Yaksun...Menowa...and more..._

"The ropes they bound to my wrists were tight enough that they began to cut into my flesh, and my blood ran down my arms as I begged for mercy over the theft of bread... from the garbage." Zanac shuddered as the passage went on, and finally he marked the page and set the book down. "I can't read more of this now… I'll finish it later."

"...I was the overseers favorite plaything at night, because I had been sold along with my daughter to the farm, and I would comply with everything on the promise that she be spared their attention. This seemed to greatly amuse the master and mistress of the house, who often threatened to sell her... or me, to ensure that I would perform ever more degrading acts, and inform on my fellow slaves. Which meant none of my own could trust me either. This game of theirs went on for twenty years, until the harvest failed, and the master of the house was forced to carry out the threat that had kept me in terror. I still have not found her, and search for my child down to the date of this publication. Laitha... if you read these words... if you still live... come to the square in our village, and I will find you again..."

Jircniv read the passage of the book his wife had brought to read, "I may have earned my name as the 'Bloody Emperor' but even to me that is… well that is what evil looks like."

"...It seemed to amuse them, to watch young elf boys and girls fight and beat each other. When I was free, I never thought I'd find occasion to curse healing magic, but the fact that our worst wounds could be cured with a little mana, meant they cared nothing for hurting us as much as they wanted. I'd heard those stories, but when I stumbled across the red grain, I knew I'd never think of healing magic the same way again. A hollowed out circle of grain, where those few yards had been laid down in the center to make a golden arena, were where the overseers and breakers would make us fight, winners were rewarded by not being put to the pain, losers... got a lot of pain. They made us hate each other as much as we hated them. That was the real insidiousness of their actions, and I still can't look at my own the same way as I did before..."

High Priest Sudon marked the page and set the book down, then went to the balcony and looked out over the city of Arwintar. 'If these narratives are selling everywhere… I doubt the temples of the six will ever really recover, not when their greatest advocates were doing 'this' in the name of the six. No wonder Neia did what she did. Given my youth back again, I might have done the same.' He thought, and walked away from his view of the world and glanced at the wall where the sword he used in his youth still hung.

"I wonder… maybe? Would he permit it, the living of a life over again if it were offered to his service?" Sudon pondered the thought with genuine curiosity… and resolved to ask the Emperor tomorrow.

All over the Sorcerous Empire and beyond, slave narratives flew from the shelves like grain with hunger on the horizon. Hands of all kinds, snatched them off the shelves of book shops and lending libraries, cafes and tea houses alike were packed with people. Most of the books bore some variation of dedication beneath the title on the inside. 'With special thanks to our liberators. His Majesty, Neia Baraja, and Black Justice...'

Many, though not all of the books, contained stories of encountering her priests or soldiers, or following her army after they were free. A fair few contained stories of their observations of Neia and her high command in an emotional moment of rescue... when the pope beat an overseer to death with her bare hands when she found him over the body of a slave, or her wife, whose perfect sword work and adamantite enchanted blade cut through chains like butter. Some few reported on the tortures they were trapped within, when Neia arrived in person, and went into great detail at the agony and rage they saw from her.

Mothers clutched their children tighter as it chilled their blood to imagine their own subject to such dread ends, fathers were no different in that regard, and so many were the shudders and shivers from one corner of the Sorcerous Empire to the other and beyond, that one could be forgiven for thinking winter had descended upon the summer afternoons and stolen away all warmth.

"Let her go." Again became a popular phrase.

In the palace of Crescent Lake, Zesshi sat up in bed, alone in her room as she read on, turning pages as fast as she could devour the words. More than once however, she had to stop and drink, it had been three bottles already.

She dropped the latest bottle... empty. That was four, it fell with a dull thud on the floor next to her enormous bed and rolled away to where the others lay, clinking lightly when the glass touched.

'He liked to ask if it felt good, sometimes he wanted me to say yes, sometimes he wanted me to say no, if I said nothing, he hit me. If I said the wrong thing, he hit me. It was a game to him, they liked their games there, and the only way to be safe from them, was to be dead. Many times after I was sent staggering to my bed of straw, I thought about ending it, and would have... except I knew what would happen to my body. They would throw me in a hole on some farm, use me to nourish the crops that nourished their bodies. In this way, right to the end, they would devour me, and everything I was. And I didn't want that, if they got a bite out of me, I wanted them to choke on it. So I stayed alive. Alive until I met a boy who treated me like a person, who tried to protect me, and through him, I found out I had a big sister, who tried to save as many of us as we could, and avenge the ones she couldn't. I wasn't the least bit surprised when I heard they'd started eating elves in Kami Miyako. After all, they were only one step removed from that for the entire time I lived there...'

"So this is what they were doing to my baby sister while I was protecting their sorry asses." Zesshi slurred out drunkenly. "Aorli... if only I'd known you sooner..." She muttered, and went on reading until she closed the finished book and began to slip into unconsciousness, with a little help from the copious amount of wine she'd consumed, which blessed her with a long and dreamless sleep.


	21. The Price of Knowledge

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 21: The Price of Knowledge

...Kirakira Prison...

Raymond was sent straight out to the yard after he was processed in, and he drew immediate commentary, and it wasn't long before his presence was drawn to the attention of Mu'Ulm. The behemoth of a minotaur set aside his practice gear, and approached the new human visitor wearing prison attire.

"You. You're human." He said bluntly, towering over the placid Raymond who stood with his hands clasped loosely behind his lower back.

"Did the lack of horns give it away?" He asked the minotaur with a knowing little smile.

Mu'Ulm huffed, "Yes, that was it. So... human, you're connected to Kiril's Angel, aren't you?"

Raymond looked at him dumbly with his head cocked to one side. "What now?"

"The one who calls herself 'Neia'. I am the former king of the yard here, and now her second in command among the prisoners. You're one of her subordinates from the outside?" He asked expectantly.

Raymond's eyes widened imperceptibly. 'She took over the prison?!' He kept his shock to himself.

"Not... exactly. I was the last ruler of the country she destroyed." Raymond said with a sense of dry resignation, "Here to testify at her trial, but before I do that... the Sorcerer King, her master, wanted me to see what she's done here."

Raymond kept his eyes locked with those of the great behemoth, Mu'Ulm might as well have been carved out of stone, muscle rippled beneath the furr of his body, his eyes blazed like a combat veteran, and the way he moved spoke of one sure of foot.

He felt the tension in the behemoth, but Raymond was completely at ease, and decided to help ease tensions, "I'm testifying 'for' her." He clarified, and felt the tension start to ease as the minotaur warrior began to understand.

"She has a strange luck about her that way, it seems. I tried to kill her when we first met, she broke me with that thing of hers that she does, and then she treated me with respect. Come with me, and I will show you what's happening here." Mu'Ulm said with greater confidence, and gestured to the various places along the long walls.

"When she arrived, every minotaur here was illiterate, most of us can still read only a little, but they learn. And there." he drew his long muscled arm further down the wall where carpenters, metal workers, leather workers, and many others, were teaching the great industrial arts in various forms. Mu'Ulm's voice contained a note of pride as he spoke and led Raymond along the dusty ground.

"There," he pointed to a long table, "our food is distributed. When she arrived, some of us starved, others were made into pets and whores, and others became kings or queens of the yard, the food was piled and we acted like base animals, clawing and trampling each other for a dirty scrap. Just animals... even days seeing the difference... the years before in this place fill me with shame. How low we'd fallen." Mu'Ulm acknowledged regretfully.

"How long have you been here, Mu'Ulm?" Raymond asked curiously as he walked in long steps and craned his neck to look up at the enormous minotaur.

"Six years, since my bandits and I were all captured or killed. Horn Breakers, we called ourselves, only way to live was for us to steal, if we couldn't steal, we'd die, if we couldn't fight, we'd die. So we became the best at both. Burned up villages, even small towns. I thought we were supreme." He laughed the deep huffing laugh of a snorting bull as he threw back his head and clutched his gut.

"She got here, and I boasted about that, only for her to speak of breaking the will of kings and being the bane of cities. Tell me, how much of that is actually true?" Mu'Ulm asked, "It's common for warriors to exaggerate so..." He paused as Raymond's sense of sorrow swept over them both.

"Oh, no matter what she told you, it's all true. She burned cities, she drowned cities, she made the land itself destroy walls, and destroyed them herself. She made armies kneel through the same power that brought you down, those things and anything else you've heard rumor of, are all true. She has no need to exaggerate. That is why she's here and on trial, because her reputation is such that no jury in the west is trusted. She's loved by some, and feared by others. Backed by His Sorcerous Majesty, I believe she really will do what she promised. And give him the world, if she's unleashed on it again. She will raise armies where there are none..."

Mu'Ulm stopped him by placing his large, meaty hand on the Cardinal's shoulder. "She really wasn't just... dreaming, then, wasn't spouting nonsense."

"Whatever she's guilty of doing, spouting nonsense isn't one of them." Raymond said with conviction as he looked around. "It looks like she's decided to build an army here, or the start of one, with the massive wealth her temples have drawn from the rental of undead labor, she'll invest fortunes into your people, I expect. Have you all converted yet?"

Mu'Ulm shrugged. "I assume she is Kiril's Angel, I don't know her god, but I would assume he's just Kiril with a foreign name. I'll follow her, and when she gets back here, I am eager to see what she does next."

The next few hours were spent with Raymond meeting various minotaurs and instructors, from those who had starved themselves to keep their pride, to the instructors in various arts. He even got to speak with guards who gave their impressions of the rapid changes being imposed by the relentless discipline of the Black Paladin.

It was such an engrossing period of time that nobody even called them in from the yard, that when nobody made the prisoners come up, nobody noticed that Neia hadn't returned until the sun began to set.

Raymond looked overhead, "Is she normally this late?"

"No... no she isn't." Mu'Ulm said with an element of concern.

The two traded a look of mutual uncertainty when at last the prisoners, including Raymond, were finally recalled. As they went up the long walkway, Raymond looked at one of the guards, "Excuse me, where is the other human?"

"Kiril's Angel has not returned. Go back to your cell, I know as much as you do." The guard replied and shrugged his shoulders.

Raymond obeyed, following the long walkway of metal and stone until he arrived at his designated cell, which to his surprise, was right next to the one belonging to Mu'Ulm.

The many small quarters were quiet that night, and Neia did not return the next day, or the next. Nor did anyone send word to Raymond, or to Mu'Ulm, about what was happening, nobody, not even the elves sent as instructors, knew what was happening. Or if they did, they weren't saying. Though as Raymond watched their fearful expressions, he felt certain they were telling the truth, whenever he approached them again in the yard.

...Nazarick...

For the next two days, Neia went back and forth between the room of her father, and Demiurge's lab.

"Please remove your robe." Vanysa said gently, and as if to show she intended no harm, remaining in her human state, she held out her hand to Neia and assisted her onto the table after she stripped herself.

"This won't hurt a bit... I promise." Vanysa said with a gentle expression as she leaned over the Black Paladin and secured adamantite chains to Neia's limbs.

Neia's breath quickened, and the woman took her hand and held it, "It's alright, we're not in court, my orders are to care for you while we try to understand what this is, why your head hurts, why you got this way. I never want to be the one to hurt you."

Neia forced herself to relax and closed her eyes, "You fooled me."

"I didn't fool you, Neia, I never lied to you." Vanysa replied as she took up a small blue stone and laid it over Neia's belly button.

"You said..." Neia stiffened briefly at the contact, and then relaxed as another was placed a few inches above it, "that I wouldn't be your prey, but between you and Lord Demiurge, you know me more intimately. You were the one who went up there... knowing I would break, knowing I would kill that man, and knowing it would probably get me killed."

"You're not dead yet, Neia Baraja." She said as she laid another blue crystal between Neia's breasts.

"You're not even going to deny the rest?" Neia asked with a raised eyebrow, intimately conscious of the chains on her wrists and ankles.

"Do you want me to lie to you? I'm a demoness who avenges the murdered, a Tisaphone Fury, my vision of your actions is... strange. I see it clearly, however it also feels off somehow, but... still, some things stand out. I don't want to do these things to you, but Demiurge was allowed to choose who to use for this, and he chose me, that means those orders are the same as if they'd come from Lord Ainz himself. Please... please forgive me." Vanysa said as she squeezed Neia's hand.

"So what is all this, anyway?" Neia asked as the demoness in human form laid down another crystal, this time on Neia's forehead.

"Please don't move. We're trying to see if the cycle of magic energy has changed in some way, we've found that the flow in different people represents their capacity and their aptitudes based on the way in which it is absorbed into these little stones. Sadly we don't have many, and they're very limited, but they're good enough for this." Vanysa explained as she monitored the stones and moved away from Neia. She took up a clip board and began to scribble notes.

"Where is Lord Demiurge?" Neia asked, "I'd have thought he'd be eager to be here to do this."

"You're naked. We're both women, your father is not going to see you deprived of your dignity for the sake of his experiments. You will not be shamed in Nazarick by having any member of it treat you roughly. And though Demi would certainly obey, he'd be fighting against his own nature. Lord Ainz thought it better that 'I' help you by myself." Her brow wrinkled suddenly. "Interesting." Vanysa finished and tapped the quill on the document several times.

"What?" Neia tilted her neck slightly up to look at the demoness who, to all the world, would appear to be a pretty blonde girl in just a long white coat over black pants boots, and a green shirt.

"Neia... can I... I have no right to ask this, but for the sake of knowledge needed to help you, can I hurt you? I promise I'll heal you right away." Vanysa tapped her quill with an ever quickening rate of speed. Around the room were various instruments of pain, all immaculately clean, which made it all somehow more horrifying because it meant so much care had been given to those things.

"You're crazy." Neia said flatly.

Vanysa bowed her head, "I know. But I am being serious, I think I may have some idea of what drives the thing that happened to you, and if I can confirm it, we can at least make sure it doesn't hurt you like it did at the pavilion. I know it sounds insane, but it won't be much, and if I'm right, I really can do something for you."

Neia relaxed her head and stared up at the ceiling. "What do you want to do?"

"I... I want to hurt your mind. Bring something powerful and painful to the forefront, like you're reliving it. Please... I wouldn't ask if I didn't think I had to." Vanysa set the clipboard aside, and took Neia's hand again.

"If I say no, are you going to hurt me anyway?" She sounded somewhat resigned as she asked the question, as if it was just a formality.

"NO." Vanysa replied firmly, "I know you may never forgive me, I don't blame you... but I really am trying to help you now."

Neia turned her head away and looked, "Go ahead. I assume I don't need to pick something, you already know what will hurt most."

Vanysa flinched at the jab, but didn't respond except to take the blue crystal fragments away, and then take another set, and coating them with a small amount of clear gel, she stuck them back onto Neia's body. "Adhesive, you're going to thrash."

"I expect so." Neia said as she put on a brave face.

"Bite down." Vanysa said as she held out a leather strap, Neia opened her lips, allowed it to be put into place, and grasped it in her teeth.

Vanysa finished securing the crystals to Neia's body, a few seconds later, she went behind the pope's head, on the long table, and then taking her cheeks between her own deceptively delicate pale hands, the buxom beauty lowered her forehead to Neia's own.

Neia could only scream as the worst memory of her life rampaged through her brain as if it was happening again, her legs kicked madly her fists slammed violently hard into the table. Agony ripped apart her mind, until at last Vanysa felt it end, and cut off the replaying of it.

Neia's eyes went dark as night, and her voice was that of doom's echo. "The minotaur kingdom must lose its king, or it will cease to be a kingdom. The coming of the three calamities will draw the wrath of the children of demons, and the harvest of man and his brothers of the other flesh, will end in the center of the world."

She began to scream again, "It hurts! It... huuuuuuuurts!"

This time, Vanysa was prepared, and she snatched a potion from under the table and dumped it over Neia's body after tearing away the crystals.

Neia ceased to scream, and immediately fell into unconsciousness. With her 'patient' sleeping, Vanysa quickly made her annotations, and left the lab to head straight to Lord Demiurge in his private office.

She walked in without knocking, and with crisp quick steps, she soundlessly laid the clipboard on the desk at which he sat. He looked down at it and then looked up at her. "Explain." He said flatly as he set aside his quill.

"First sample is her at rest, perfectly natural mana flow through a body, no extraordinary magical talent whatsoever, capable enough when it comes to one highly specialized type of Sacred Death magic that lets her use martial arts aplenty..."

"Holy Death Magic." Demiurge corrected her without looking up from her results.

"Agree to disagree." Vanysa said passively, and pointed to the second set. "This one," she said as Demiurge brushed off her contradiction, "is what happens when I dredged up her most painful memory and made her relive it. It shut down a part of her mind where part of the mana normally flowed, and pumped it into the same place where her evangelist skills are active... 'but' the flow is so rapid its..." She scratched her head as she tried to think of an analogy... "Remember what happened to her at Prart when she first drew on our master's power? It almost killed her in minutes or less and she couldn't stop herself. It's like that, the flow is too great for her mind, and so it starts to destroy her from within."

Demiurge looked up at her, then down at the clip board, then back up to her. "You're sure of these numbers?"

She nodded, "I checked the crystal contents, the flow intake definitely changed, on the first one it was a slow but steady fill on the left and right side of the crystals, on the second it was rapid but even in all of them. However at her head, the left channel got nothing, it filled only from the right side. That is only possible if the left side shut down completely, and the flow rate that resulted was impossible for a normal human to bear. Frankly if she weren't the level you say she is, she would have died instead of just suffered." Vanysa said with confidence and drew her hand back to fold into the other at the small of her back.

"Do you plan to repeat the experiment?" He asked with an arched brow.

"I don't, not unless I have to. She's my friend, Demi. You know I don't want to hurt her." Vanysa said with a quiet firmness in her voice.

"Lord Ainz's orders are absolute." He said in a low voice of warning.

"Yes they are, and he hasn't ordered me to hurt her for no reason at all. He ordered me to find out what was wrong, why this was happening. I've done that. If he orders me to torture her, I will obey my master. But I won't pointlessly torture a dear friend for nothing."

Demiurge looked at her and rested his head on his hands with his elbows on the table.

"And if 'I' order you to do it again, to be sure?" He asked quietly.

Vanysa thought for a moment, and met him with her insane, storm gray eyes. "You won't, because you know he cares for her, you can't fool me, not that easily." Vanysa sensed the sadistic urges rising up in her lover, "Shall I lock the door?" She asked archly as she took off her lab coat.

"No, if anyone comes in, well with the noise you're going to make, they must obviously want to see." He said with a low, brutish laugh.

"Alright... she'll be asleep for hours, and Lord Ainz won't be back till later... we have time, but one thing please." Vanysa said as she kicked off her boots.

"What?" He asked as he undid his tie with a smooth gesture and cast it aside.

"Make me hurt this time." Vanysa said in a rush of masochistic defiance.

Being the perfect sadist, he laughed as he peeled away his clothing and said simply, 'Maybe.'

She laughed. "Me or you, me or you, pick one, but one of us is gonna get hurt real good." She said as her skin turned gold and her wings emerged from her naked back.


	22. Pushing Forward

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 22: Pushing Forward

_...Nazarick..._

Vanysa stretched out languidly and put on the change of clothes. "You didn't have to tear up my clothes you know, I'd already taken them off." She snorted derisively. He knew it hadn't been necessary, but he'd enjoyed it. She rolled her eyes at his cocky expression.

"True, but it was more enjoyable to use them that way." His crystalline eyes twinkled.

She laughed, "One of these days I'll forget to keep a change of clothes in your office, and I'll have to walk back to our quarters naked, do you really want the whole tomb to get an eyeful?"

She winked, "Or do you... pervert?" She grinned lasciviously as he straightened his tie.

"Forget one day, and find out." He answered and threw her a healing potion, she caught it and downed it easily, then set the vial aside for later reuse.

"Don't tempt me." She teased, and then her lewd expression was gone, "She'll be waking up soon, I'm going to go take care of her. I mean 'really' take care of her. Get her dressed, get those damn chains off her, and tell her what we can do to help her."

"Can you really help?" Demiurge asked with more curiosity than concern as he sat back at his desk.

"Yes, not tremendously, but because we don't know how much her body can take, the best thing to be done here is to modify a calm spell charm, something that will activate on its own, it'll need to feed off her own mana to restore itself, and she doesn't have a lot of that, but... I don't think that will be a problem since it only seems to really hurt her when something extremely bad comes to mind. For small things, she probably has brief flashes, visions, but if I were to guess she would just feel tired or have a minor headache. Nothing requiring work to fix." Vanysa suggested thoughtfully.

"She'll have to remove that charm when on trial, no magic, we may have to break her again if Albedo and Pandora's Actor generate sympathy. Ideally I'd get her to kill somebody who was innocent, in front of everyone. That would be difficult however." Demiurge pondered and stroked his chin thoughtfully.

"Not possible, Demi. The only way you'll do that, is to put her into a situation like Wheaton. Where she's so overwhelmed by what she sees, that she makes everybody into monsters. You won't get that chance in court." Vanysa remarked calmly.

"I don't need a court for that." Demiurge said bluntly. "Go, 'take care' of your friend, this may be a gamble, but if it is successful, we'll destroy whatever is left of her chances in the next few days."

"As you like, lover." Vanysa's wild insane eyes stared at him with intensity that would have unsettled a lesser figure, and she spun on her heel and skipped out humming the same song she'd hummed to herself when she'd gone to torture Astraka and Tesug.

Neia was just starting to come to when the storm grey eyed demoness came in. She knew immediately something was wrong, the musical melody the demoness hummed, she'd heard whenever the girl had talked of torture. Neia felt her heartbeat increase wildly as the door to the lab shut with a little click, and without a word, the blonde girl pulled up a chair and sat next to Neia's head.

The pope looked up at the ceiling as the demoness in human skin stayed silent and stared at her. She felt the grey eyes boring into the side of her head while she hummed. But neither said a word.

"If you're trying to decide how to hurt me next, be quick about it at least." Neia said, as Vanysa reached out and stroked her cheek. She could feel the insanity whorling around in the woman who sat beside her.

"I'm... so sorry... I know... I said it... But I meant it. I didn't know I'd be this way." Vanysa continued to stroke Neia's cheek, it was an affectionate gesture, at least in name, but it 'felt' like a beast taking a taste of prey.

"Who does? You think I saw myself ending up 'here' like 'this' twenty years ago?" Neia asked bluntly, turning her head to look into storm grey eyes with eyes of blue sky.

"No, none of us know who we'll be until we're that person. But... I didn't come to hurt you, I just... I don't know why I want to do such... terrible things to you, you never did anything to me. You held me in our sessions, as I did for you, we were clawing our way out together... but my instincts tear at me anyway, telling me I should do things... when all I really want is for you to... to go free, to get better!" Vanysa said as she clutched at her thighs with her hands.

"Well... if you're feeling out the room, I have an opinion." Neia said with a sardonic laugh.

Vanysa didn't laugh, she kept looking at the bound woman with her gray eyes turned silver with shimmering frustration pooling within.

"Nobody gets jokes... even here." Neia rolled her eyes and took a deep breath. "If you can't stop yourself, well I can't stop you, and who the hell am I to tell anyone to 'control themselves'?" She exhaled deeply and closed her eyes.

Which is why she didn't see when the chains were unlocked and her hands and arms were released.

She did however, feel when they were removed.

"I will ask the Sorcerer King if he has any insights, why I am in conflict but... I have a job to do, and it doesn't involve making you suffer... not right now." Vanysa said as Neia sat up. She handed Neia a robe, "You'll want a trip to the baths, I expect."

Neia nodded mutely.

"The good news," Vanysa pushed on as fast as she could move her lips, "is that we can help you, a calm charm that feeds off your mana that will help keep your memories from overwhelming you. You won't be allowed to use it during the trial..."

"So you can break me again, because of course once wasn't enough." Neia interjected coldly.

Vanysa nodded her ascent slowly, "Yes. So we can make you out to be a monster and get you convicted. We're both faithful servants, Neia. Your job is walk out of there, my job is to make sure you don't. I may hope I fail, but that doesn't mean I won't do my best not to."

"Yes... faithful servants." Neia hung her head, "I shouldn't forget that you don't really have a choice here. No more than I do."

The demoness put two fingers under Neia's chin and lifted it up, "It's alright, you're only human, no matter what else you do. Hold on to that, I've lost my humanity, almost all of it, but you've still got yours, and that has value too. So don't lower your head to me."

Neia gave her a wan smile, "You really meant it though, you really were trying to help. Can you explain what it is you found?"

Vanysa put her hands on Neia's shoulders as soon as the Black Paladin put on her robe and approached, "Believe me, I'd love to, but it wouldn't make the slightest sense to you. Not that you're stupid but..."

Neia blinked both her eyes, "Magic stuff, just leave it at that, it's fine. I care less about what you found than how to fix the problem."

"The easiest fix would be to take your humanity and give you a more powerful body... but I don't think you want that. Do you?" Vanysa asked simply.

"No." Neia replied, and stepped around her to head out of the door.

"I'll have an item ready for you before you leave." Vanysa said to a silent back as Neia left her behind and headed for the baths.

Reaching the ninth floor was easy for her now, no help needed, and soon she found herself stepping into the women's bath alone. She laid her robe aside and let the water take her as she let herself go into its depths.

The water was hot, inviting, soothing. The high walls that divided it from the mens' bath, reminded her vaguely of the walls of Kirakira prison. "Walls." She said as she looked at it, "You made a house possible, a home possible, you made safety for people... now you're a prison keeping me apart from everything I love... and I've come to hate you, I hate walls. Whether I'm fighting or dying on them... they're always a place of pain for me." She reached out and touched the smooth stone. "If I get through this, I never want to be trapped like that again."

"That wall at least, is a massive inconvenience." A well known voice said.

Neia snapped her head over and looked up to see the naked form of the Guardian Overseer standing next to her.

"Lady Albedo!" Neia exclaimed with surprise. "How long have you been here?!"

"Long enough." The Guardian Overseer replied, "Come, sit with me." She said, and putting her hand on the small of Neia's back, she gestured to the seating area within the waters.

Only the ripples disturbed the quiet as they moved to an area within the waters where stone seating was available, 'She's so... otherworldly in her beauty... in the stories, the king always has a beautiful queen, she would make them all appear to be hags.'

Against her will, Neia's lips began to tremble as she sat. Albedo sat down beside her. Nobody spoke for a bit, there was just the water, the steam, and the heat from both. "I asked Demiurge to throw the trial." Albedo said finally.

Neia felt the shock wash over her like the water that surrounded them both.

"Why...?" Neia asked with such disbelief that she overlooked the title.

"Because... Lord Ainz... he loves you. He really does. You 'are' a daughter to him." Albedo answered. "I wasn't entirely sure it went that far, not at first, not even when I asked that of Demiurge, it was more a guess I wasn't willing to chance not making. But I became sure of it soon enough."

Neia looked up at her with shimmering eyes.

The Guardian Overseer continued, "He watches your trial every day, and oftentimes, he watches over you inside of Kirakira Prison. Of all the people in Nazarick, I know him best, and I love him most." Albedo said, and took Neia's hand in hers.

"I can read him like a book, for a long time, I couldn't believe it, because you are after all, 'human'. But the way his eyes move and follow your every gesture, the rapidity of his response when you are in danger, the pride he has in you when he speaks of your relentless efforts... it is more than a master for a servant. If you were but a tool, he would not speak of you as he does, when you were not present. When you 'broke' out there, and we rushed you to Nazarick for immediate treatment, I could hear it in his voice... that sound was what I heard in my heart every time I picture him holding the child I will one day bear for him."

"I... why are you telling me this?" Neia finally asked as she rubbed her eyes.

Albedo put her arm behind Neia's back on the long bench and continued. "Because you called me 'future empress' and that would make you, who are a daughter to him, a daughter to me also. You are not just loyal to him, you love him."

"I... called you an Empress? Oh... one of those moments, I don't remember it." Neia added. But she beamed as she craned her neck to look up at the statue of beauty incarnate. "Father will finally get what he deserves... the truest of companions, a devoted mate!"

Her voice became almost frantic, filled with unexpected longing, "Maybe then, one day, after I am gone, you can... you can have children." Neia grinned with genuine happiness, and clasped Albedo's hand, catching the demoness by surprise by virtue of not only the intensity in the grip, but more by the intensity of Neia's face as pure happiness filled her face. That would be amazing, to have such power and wisdom, grow up being nurtured by parents who truly love them..." Then her face went blank as if she saw nothing around them, and instead saw something only visible to herself.

"And the year of the first birth of the children of god will herald the coming of a master of conspiracy from the world's tree, who will threaten to lie the empire to ruin, unless he is brought low, killed, and broken by what he cannot fathom." Neia's voice was not her own, and when her words had come and gone, she squeezed her eyes shut... "It... hurts..." She clenched her teeth shook with obvious agony and for a moment Albedo looked with rare surprise as the birth of her child was foretold, and a threat to their master with it.

"I've got you... I've got you..." Albedo whispered, "Mother has you..." and pulled Neia against her body, and caressed her as tears of pain poured over Albedo's breast and down into the waters, and she did so, until Neia was herself again, if only in an unwilling slumber brought by pain, from which she did not wake, not for a very, very long time.

'I must win.' Albedo thought grimly, 'If this is how it is to be... then I cannot lose, for his sake, my sake and...' She looked down at the unconscious human, 'her sake.'

_...City Squares around and beyond the Empire..._

"The sudden collapse of the accused, Neia Baraja, pertains to some previously unknown condition, as a result, until it is understood, she is unfit to take the stand, and will be under care as an attempt is made to understand what has happened. She will return to trial soon, as she is 'expected' to make a full recovery, however she will be confined to prison after treatment, until such time as her testimony is needed, or an accuser against her comes to speak."

Or so the demons announced, and gossip poured from countless lips.

But more than that... were the protests.

"Let her go! Let her go! Let her go!" There was barely an elf in the Empire that wasn't shouting it loud enough that, watching from the mirror of Remote Viewing, swore that, even though they made not a sound, he swore that their words carried all the way to Nazarick as they shouted for the Minotaur Kingdom to hear their cries.

For her part, Skana stood atop the platform in Hoburns, she did not try to hide her pregnancy in the least. She took a deep breath, and looked over the temple that they'd all worked so hard to build. Every stone to her, seemed stained with the blood of their martyrs. She looked over the sea of faces, many wore uniforms that were clearly official, others wore common clothing, but wore some emblem of their greatest value. Some symbol of the nature of their worship. Some were clear, swords, closed fists, shields, quills, others were not clear. Flowers, white trees, open hands, and others.

She put her hands over her belly, and closing her eyes for a moment to gather herself, she then began. The sun hammered down, and reflected off her face making her appear luminous and angellike to the believers who stood in observance of the second in command of their religion, and their temporary head.

"I am not my wife... I can't move others as she does... but I know for this I needn't. We are united... united in our desire to see her brought home. To see Neia Baraja free! What she did, she did for all, what she did wrong, was done because she was pushed beyond all reason and could bear nothing more. This I say with confidence, I know her heart as no other in life, and all she wants is peace, all any of us want is peace. Killing her will not bring peace, but the Minotaur Kingdom does not know her as we do, so we must show them the glory of our Lord! I ask for volunteers who have completed their training as priests, paladins, and soldiers, to join with those merchants of ours, and travel as one to the Minotaur Kingdom. Show them the virtue of our faith, and she who led us to knowing the one true god, the great king who watches over us, and protects us from harm!"

Skana spoke with sincerity, she spoke with passion, and above all as she spoke as if Neia were a mother to them as well. "Did we not stand beneath her banner?! Did she not look at you and fight to secure your lives?! She stood on the wall to protect us when we were weak... now she is trapped behind them, weakened and in pain... and we, and we alone can protect her! Go, order yourselves into companies among the temple, travel to the Minotaur Kingdom, and show them what was born of service to our lord. If they know his glory, they will know she does not belong beneath the earth or behind a wall! It is not enough to say we want her free, we must prove it, and make 'them' want her free also!"

The effect was not the electric outpouring of emotion and instant response to the call for action that was usually the result of a speech by the Demon of the West... but it was effective nonetheless.

From the balcony where Queen Calca stood watching, she appraised the crowd of the faithful.

She didn't look over her shoulder, "Well, Viscountess, what do you think?"

Cercei stood behind her Queen at her left hand. "I think it is a very good idea. It is a very long way to the Minotaur Kingdom. However if we buy those storage containers left over from the war, the ones called 'lunchboxes' and hire dragons to carry the goods back and forth, along with people, then a few caravans can leave out of Forton. It wouldn't be a bad idea to forge friendly ties with other parts of the empire."

Calca barely nodded and kept watching as the crowd slowly built enthusiasm, even from there, it was obvious that ideas were being thrown out and small groups with ideas of their own were forming. "Kedyn is lucky to have you."

"Thank you, Your Majesty." Cercei said, as Calca casually held up her arm and offered it out.

"Bite to eat?" She asked the vampire noblewoman.

"You would offer your blood to me?" Cercei asked, blinking her blood red eyes rapidly in surprise.

Calca kept her eyes fixed firmly outward, and spoke with conviction, and a hint of remembered sorrow, "I died for the sake of my subjects, I changed for the sake of my subjects, I surrendered my nation's independence for the sake of my subjects. I would certainly be willing to bleed to feed one who sent her people to die on my walls. Go ahead, you are my guest after all, while we work out how best to influence the days ahead."

Cercei took the arm in both her hands, at wrist and elbow, and keeping an eye on the Queen's face, sank her fangs into the vein, piercing the flesh and making the Queen wince just a little, as she fed one of her loyal subjects.

"We'll support them, revenues are up, we can manage tax breaks to fund the sale of equipment needed for long journeys, and apply it..." She sucked in her teeth as Cercei's bite went in a little deeper, "to all intending to support the human sacrifice."

Cercei withdrew her fangs, "Thank you, my Queen. For both hearing me out, and for the trust you show in allowing me to indulge in royal blood."

"There was no need to thank me for either." Queen Calca said solemnly, "I know what she and Blue Rose alike did for you and your city. I am not the least bit surprised you'd show up asking how your city can help the Pope now. Jircniv may have been the first to bow to the Sorcerer King as a ruler... but we are the first to embrace him as a god. In that, I have bested a rival, and I have Kedyn in part, to thank for that. You created almost as many priests as Prart, all others are rushing to catch up, and with the help of the cities of the North, that won't happen. Not for years."


	23. Harsh Reality

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 23: Harsh Reality

_...Eastern Minotaur Kingdom...Penitent Fortress 'Last Home'...Days Later..._

Mu'Anik sat behind his desk and listened to the report of the scouts. There was nothing on the wall on either side, except his ax, and nothing on his desk, except his weary hands.

"...So the Devor scouts have appeared in increasing numbers, our skirmishers are delaying them, but as long as we refuse to cross the border, our ability to come to grips with them is limited, what are your orders, Sir?" Mu'Bin asked gravely.

The pair were polar opposites, Mu'Bin was young, powerfully built, vigorous, and though not especially tall for a minotaur, the skin over which his dark fur lay, struggled to contain the muscle within, and unlike Mu'Anik... his ax was carried instead of laid aside.

Mu'Anik was gray of fur with age, his eyes lost the sharpness of youth, and he seemed slothful even sitting still. His muscles were faded and his entire body seemed to be a jest of the idea of minotaur vigor.

"What we always do. We keep them back, warn the villages, and withdraw to the fortress, and hope they don't come for us. What else is there?" Mu'Anik added, "Oh, and we tell King Mu'Fidelius how bravely we fought and fended off another invasion." He tapped his fingers on the desk as if he were bored by the report and just waiting for the young bull to leave.

"Sir..." Mu'Bin began urgently, "the ones closest to the border haven't a chance of escape, not even a little."

"Then that just means they won't invade farther into the interior, or come for us now, doesn't it?" Mu'Anik said coldly. "As long as the Devor harvest enough on the border, they won't do worse, will they?"

Mu'Bin felt sick. "Sir... no sir."

"Relax, we're getting a new prisoner soon, someone 'special' just make a space for it, but not much, it's fairly small and it'll probably die in short order, oh and... when it arrives, put it to a 'dangerous' use very quickly." Mu'Anik added with the sort of conspiratorial calm the dullard of a commander used whenever he expected to be getting some dirty work done.

"Do I brief the prisoner when he arrives or just throw it out there with a weapon to die?" Mu'Bin asked with the tired resignation of a minotaur who had seen it happen a thousand times.

Mu'Anik reached into the drawer of his desk and read the order, "Ensure the 'quick' deployment of this 'dangerous' element and 'end' the immediate threat." As orders went, it wasn't subtle.

Mu'Bin groaned internally, wondering what the poor fool had done to get a personal order for a suicidal position from the king himself. "As you say, Commander." He couldn't bring himself to salute, he simply spun about and left the office.

_...Nazarick..._

Neia was again dressed in the clothing she wore at her trial, sitting upright in the bar across from Pandora's Actor. "So you really think I still have a chance?"

"Mein sister, you are not dead, therefore there is..." He pointed at her dramatically, "still a chance for you! Lord Demiurge and his paramor may have hit you hard, but we will hit back harder! While you are held in bondage, we will question Raymond before the world, he will tell the truth, all things will come to light, and when we are done... what you have done will seem as nothing!"

Neia frowned and looked down at the thick beer that she held in her hand on the table. "Arrogant Bastard Ale... can't ask for better stuff than this, drank it on my honeymoon here, you know. Going to miss it while I rot out there." She said, half distracted with his words and her own tumultuous thoughts.

"Should it really be that way?" She finally asked as she looked up at her father's son. "Should my actions really be trivialized? A lot of people died because I couldn't keep my shit together. I didn't mean for a lot of things to happen... but I 'did' mutilate people, and I 'did' influence my army well enough to make berserkers out of them. Maybe that nation was the worst of the worst, but their children weren't, and many were guilty of nothing but living there. And... I did strike so much terror into them that many fled out into the freezing winter, and died there. I didn't 'force' them out, but terror is a force all its own."

Pandora's Actor stabbed his finger down hard on the table as he made his point in his most dramatic voice, "Mein mittel sister... you did not ask for war, you simply went to end it. And for our lord's world to be, those places had to fall. Mein fellow creation, the demoness who prosecutes you, told them... 'If they hate demons so much, they should stop making them' well if they revile war and retribution so much, then they should have ceased to wage them and ceased to call wrath down upon their heads."

Neia was quiet, and so it was easy to catch the voice when she was addressed. "Neia Baraja." Albedo said calmly as she entered the bar and approached.

"It is time to go." She said with a more gentle voice than Neia had heard out of her before.

Pandora's Actor looked over his shoulder at the Guardian Overseer. "So soon? Not another day?"

Albedo approached and stood behind Neia, then placed her hands gently on the shoulders of the Black Paladin before answering Pandora's Actor. "No. Lord Ainz's orders. Apparently she's being transferred farther from the capital. Her... performance... seems to have caused some concern in some quarters, and Mu'Fidelius and his Queen, to appease the fears of weaker hearts, are putting her in a fortress called 'Last Home'."

Pandora's Actor looked from Lady Albedo to Neia, "I smell a trap."

"I also." Albedo remarked calmly.

"I don't." Neia frowned. "But it doesn't matter. Trap? No trap? The will of my lord will be done. If I'm to die, it will be under the justice of my father, if I am to live... it will be the same, and if I am freed, it will be the same. I am not much for conspiracies. I am a warrior of the divine, and nothing will bar the ascendancy of my god. His will be done, in all the world, as within these halls of mighty Nazarick."

Her blue eyes were bright as a clear sky as she met the gaze of Pandora's Actor.

Albedo crouched down and whispered into her ear, "Very good.. Yes... very, very good. That will make mother very... very proud of you."

Neia finished her beer, and with eyes of steel she looked at the blank face of Pandora's Actor and stood up as she spoke. "Take me back, brother. I am grateful to both of you for your protection in this desperate time... but I won't put off the inevitable out of fear. I have a job to do after all."

"You do, but also... take this." Albedo said gently, and slowly turned Neia around to face her. She tilted Neia's face up, and put a necklace over her head. "This will help keep back your... prophetic states."

Neia reached up and touched the necklace, but kept her blue eyes on the gold of the beautiful succubus. "Th-thank you... mother..." She said, it felt strange, her heart skipped a beat. And then it skipped a few more. 'How… strange that felt to say, but also good.' Neia thought to herself as she savored the thought of being held in such regard.

Albedo waved the appreciation away, "It is what a mother does to protect her young... Now, we must also see to protecting you from what awaits you. Bear what you must, but know that we are working hard."

"I know... I know, and I..." Neia looked down at the necklace that she had raised up in her palm, a small teardrop etched with tiny writing that she couldn't read, with intricate designs around it from top to bottom, at first glance it appeared very simple, but with her sharp eyes, it was obviously a masterwork of priceless value.

"I am grateful, for everything." Neia finished at last. "Can I see him, you know, before I go?" Neia bit her lip at the question which she was sure she already knew the answer to.

"No... but know this..." Albedo tilted Neia's head up to meet her eyes again, "He will be watching you."

"I will be worthy of that faith." Neia said boldly, "Now... shall we?"

"Yes." Albedo answered, "I will be taking you myself however, Pandora's Actor will be visiting your 'former' prison, to collect Raymond."

Albedo reached into her pocket dimension and drew out the things she would use to deliver her, and Neia opened her mouth to accept the gag, and the Guardian Overseer looked down at the items she held in her hand.

"No. Not here. You will not have this done to you, not here." She said firmly, and when the gate opened, she said with a barely concealed anger, "Go as you are, let it be done in the place where cowards live, never here."

Neia broke into a smile, and walked through the gate with her back straight and without hesitation.

Albedo followed after, and then they were gone.

_...Kirakira Prison..._

Mu'Ulm was displeased. In the absence of the human General, the instructors continued to provide their guidance, and the human Cardinal inserted himself as a kind of 'right hand' though as he looked down at the human walking beside him while they appraised the formation, he got the sense that unease racked them both, but that it was not of the same sort.

Fifty minotaurs, five ranks deep and ten abreast, marched with shields out and, and demolished the loose ranks arrayed against them like they were not even there, a suggestion of the Cardinal to 'test' the efficacy of their new methods.

"By Kiril's balls..." Mu'Ulm said, for a moment forgetting everything for a moment as the strength of a formation was demonstrated against individuals.

Up above, the guards pounded their hooves in acknowledgement at what they saw. Faint whispers of 'warriors' came down from above, as the occasional recalcitrant guard which had held out against seeing the prisoners as more than beasts, was shocked out of disbelief by undoubtable iron discipline.

"They cut through them like butter... a mere fifty... cut through twice their number. What would that do to the beastmen, if we numbered in the thousands, and held real weapons?" Mu'Ulm wondered aloud, with breathless awe in his voice.

"To borrow a phrase from my... former enemy, I believe she would say that 'You would fucking kill them all.' Raymond answered crudely, and the elf instructor who approached, could not keep back a grin.

"She would definitely say something like that. But... why are 'you' assisting here?" The elf asked with a furrowed brow.

"Because I have nothing better to do. I was supposed to testify days ago, but she hasn't come back, and nobody has come to take me or tell me anything. The least I can do is help make warriors stronger, and it beats sitting with my back to the wall looking glum." Raymond answered in a very banal voice.

"It is true I can never really forgive her for some of what she's done... she drowned twenty thousand of my soldiers after I begged for her to spare them. Not to mention the rest of the city, which she then had completely erased, though that at least wasn't in my kingdom. The slaughter of Wheaton will taint her name forever, not to mention the fates of those who fled and froze, or those she mutilated, or how I begged her to spare my city... I... I know how you feel about us. But they were still my people, and while I tried to save bodies as much as souls, she killed so many that it will be generations before my... 'former country' recovers its numbers." Raymond fidgeted with his fingers, gripping his prison garb.

"But I know 'why' she did it too, how it came to that, and how we could have prevented it, and that too is part of history, a history I won't let be forgotten to set us up for a future conflict by painting some foolish image of ourselves as innocent victims. We did have innocents but, as a nation? We were a lost people, we raised up demons, it is no surprise they came for us." Raymond didn't flinch as he spoke to the elven instructor, but the hollowness of his tone said well enough how the conflict had marked him.

"Besides... if... certain people to whom I was very close, were around right now, they'd want me to help here, and see strength blossom." Raymond paused and looked at the western wall, "I don't know if one of them is even still alive, but I hope she is, and that she's happy, whatever she's doing with the life she got back." Raymond lost himself in thought and his memories ran through the faces of the elf slaves he and his friends had liberated and hidden away, the children had almost certainly been fostered out the day they were taken, most of them probably to the eastern province bordering the Beastman Kingdom. 'Are the little ones happy... did they find their parents... did their parents survive? I guess those are things I'll never know. But they lived, they're free, I suppose that is enough.'

He was so lost in thought, that he didn't even notice the hand of the behemoth minotaur on his shoulder until it shook him.

Raymond snapped out of his stupor, and looked up to Mu'Ulm, who pointed behind him.

Raymond turned around, "I know that one. Excuse me... it must be time." He said, and inclined his head to the elf and the minotaur, then turned to approach the one he knew as 'Pandora's Actor'.

"Is it..." Raymond began, only to be interrupted almost immediately.

"You, are you one of hers?" Mu'Ulm demanded brusquely as he jogged behind Raymond.

Pandora's Actor looked up at the massive minotaur. "Are you hers, mein gut bull?"

Mu'Ulm didn't hesitate. "Yes."

Pandora's Actor bowed dramatically, "The frauline you speak of es mein sister... of a sort. We are servants of the one god, and I am her defender in your country's court."

Mu'Ulm felt his head swim as the information was just dumped upon him by the bizarre creature.

"Ah, well, where is she?" He asked bluntly, forcing out the big question and quietly filing away all the others for later asking.

"There was an incident, she lives, but you do not need the details, I am sure they will filter to you anyway, as your guards learn of it. Suffice it to say, she will not be returning here, in terror of mein sister, your Ard Rhi has consented to requests to move her to the Fortress of Last Home in the east of your kingdom."

Mu'Ulm stamped his hoof hard. "Get her out!" He said urgently.

Pandora's Actor looked up at him. "Why?" He asked.

"She will die there." Mu'Ulm said with his large brown eyes growing wide, he stepped imposingly close to Pandora's Actor.

"What is dangerous about that place?" Pandora's Actor inquired further, his blank face seeming somehow more intent as he inched closer to the giant minotaur.

Mu'Ulm snorted angrily and his eyes turned red with wrath. "I am from the east, I know that land, it is the raiding ground of the Devor Empire. They call that fortress, 'Last Home' because nobody gets another afterward, they die there. Trash units, incompetent commanders, trouble makers or inconvenient persons end up there. They are 'supposed' to defend the border. In fact what they actually do is warn the surrounding area, fight a few skirmishes, and then let the Devor come in and take who they want and go home. Anyone sent there can expect to fight stupid battles, get captured sooner or later, and eaten. The commander there for the last twenty years has only lasted because he's sacrificed the surrounding areas and left the raiding parties alone when they cross back over the border with the harvest of our people. If they don't get enough of us, the raiders strike the fortress and he sends out his warriors as 'sacrifices' to stave off a siege."

"Then why has he not been replaced?" Pandora's Actor asked with sudden interest.

"Because he has boasted about 'keeping them from the interior' if General Baraja is being sent there, I promise you they're expecting her to die." Mu'Ulm said with unshakable certainty and stamped his hoof with rage.

"Why would they want mein sister dead? They're already trying her. They can just find her guilty and have her executed." Pandora's Actor pointed out, but already he was connecting dots as he watched Raymond with interest.

Raymond's mind went into absolute overdrive as he considered everything he'd just heard. 'Are they insane? Are they stupid? No... no they just don't know what they're dealing with, they're just like we were before everything went to hell. Mu'Fidelius you fool... or... should I be mocking the Devor. If they really do kill her, who knows what horrors will be unleashed? Her wife will call for a holy crusade, the Sorcerous Empire might mobilize, the Sorcerer King himself might take the field, and I doubt very much they'd forget who put her in danger by stationing her there.' All that passed through Raymond's mind in a moment, but when he noticed Pandora's Actor looking at him, he answered bluntly, brutally, and without any merciful padding of the facts that would make Mu'Fidelius or the Minotaur Kingdom look any better.

"Because they want to use the Sorcerer King. If the Devor kill her, it's their fault, the Minotaur King offers his condolences and allows the Sorcerer King to send his armies through... best case, the Devor are defeated and badly weakened for generations, worst case, the Sorcerer King is defeated..." Raymond paused to laugh at the notion, and when it faded, he continued, "and the west won't pose a problem later. He's playing both ends against the middle, and gambling with the life of Neia Baraja." Raymond said with confidence.

"A sensible conclusion. But one which has an end they have not considered." Pandora's Actor replied.

"Oh?" Mu'Ulm and Raymond asked at once.

Pandora's Actor looked to the east, and though his face was blank, they felt a very pleased sense of amusement coming off of his body. "Ja, zat mein guten sister educates the Devor on why she is called the 'Demon of the West'."


	24. Resolute

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 24: Resolute

_...Menowa..._

Nua stood at the same spot where she'd been dropped off the week before, and just as she expected, within a few hours, Mu'Sula was pulling his empty cart up, though from the opposite direction.

"Need another supply run?" He asked jovially, patting the cart behind him.

"I do, and I assume it's the same price as before, five silver for the ride, two if I keep you entertained?" Nua asked with an equally jovial smile.

"Thasright!" He couldn't smile the way she could, but he had such a pleasant air about him in the way he said it, with casual gestures that made you forget that he was almost seven and a half feet tall and that she had to crane her neck to look up at him.

"Alright, well wait till I tell you this one, about the time I faced the Demon of the West in a dead city, and so saved Kami Miyako from the worst genocide of humanity in six hundred years." Nua said as she jumped easily up to the cart and sat herself down, she put her legs up on an empty barrel and relaxed backward as Mu'Sula began to pull.

A few hours later they reached Hilloa and pulled up in front of the general store. "So that was how I got the demon to show mercy, and did what the last and greatest General of the Slane Theocracy, and the only surviving Cardinal of the same, could not do."

"OK... now that is definitely a story worth hearing, but... when do you head back to the city?" Mu'Sula asked hopefully. 'OK, that has to be the last story that she's got... I can kill her on the way there, the money she's got in that pouch, I could live off for ten lifetimes.'

"Wait here a moment, and I'll find out, if you want to make some extra hauling the stuff I'll need, back with me, well I'll pay you ten silver for the trip." Nua proposed as she hopped down and landed with the adroit ease of an elf, and walked with the grace of a dancer.

Her clothing, black but for the rising sun, was eye catching in its quality, and from behind her, Mu'Sula looked at her with avaricious eyes. "Twenty." He said, then added, "Fifteen if you've got a story as good as that one."

Nua didn't look over her shoulder as she opened the door to the crude store, "Oh I do. Wait till you hear about my time living with the Serial Killer of Kami Miyako."

Mu'Sula did not leave, he waited eagerly until she came back outside, chatting amicably with the store owner, he was bare chested, but wore an apron around his thick waist, and snorted as she asked if he could load up the cart with enough supplies for a month at the price she offered.

"Thanks to your last big purchase, I could fill five such wagons, but you're being very generous... so... why?" He asked.

"People who have no money, spend no money, people who have it but don't spend it, don't help those who don't have it, make any. So... I'm spending well, my generosity would please my god, surely you've heard of the one God, the Sorcerer King?"

He raised a brow and shook his head, Mu'Sula paid only half attention as he caught a few words here and there as she talked and the shopkeeper worked to get the cart loaded up.

Nua's attempt at help was brushed aside, "You're the customer, my best customer, and this is 'my' job." The shopkeep said resolutely, so Nua waited aside and chatted him up as he worked, until he was done. "Oh, and refill my friend here's water skin with something decent to drink, tack it onto the bill." She said and jerked her thumb at Mu'Sula, whose mouth fell open in surprise as he found himself handing over his water skin and the shopkeep filled it up with fresh juice.

"Best I've got." He said and handed it to Mu'Sula.

"Thanks." Mu'Sula said in barely coherent understanding at what had just happened.

"Alright, let's go." Nua said as she hopped back up into the cart, and Mu'Sula started pushing the cart forward again and was a quarter mile down the road before he even really realized what had happened.

"So, about that serial killer story?" He prompted as she finished her meal and drink behind him.

"Oh yes, you'll love this one." She said with a proud little smirk.

By the time they'd returned to the front of what she intended to be her temple, he realized something else. 'Damn it, I can't kill her this time either... sure it's dark and I might get away with it, but... you don't get stories like this every day.'

"Same time next week?" He asked.

"Well, I've got a month's supply here, but there is something I need that maybe you can help me with." Nua said hopefully, he looked down at her with interest after he unloaded everything and put it inside.

"I need laborers, skilled laborers, people who can work with stone, wood, that kind of thing. I'd prefer master craftsmen, but they're probably hard to come by." Nua stroked her chin, only to stop when Mu'Sula shook his head.

"Nobody's hiring anyone that good these days, how many do you need?" He asked.

"I need enough to build a good temple out of this place, I'll pay gold for supplies and labor, you deliver plenty of both to me by the end of the week, and you'll get a commission on every laborer, say a silver for every week of their labor." Nua said, and watched the spark of opportunity light in the eyes of her industrious friend.

"If I can bring them tomorrow?" He asked.

"Ten silver. On delivery only. None of that, 'they'll be here soon' nonsense." Nua said, and stuck out her hand.

"Be up early." He said and took her hand in his. "See you tomorrow." He winked and wheeled his cart around and began to push it back the way they'd come.

He was as good as his word, when Nua got up the next morning, a group of laborers and three wagonloads of materials were parked outside.

Nua counted out ten and put them in his hand immediately. As if to show them he was serious, Mu'Sula held the coins up between his fingers so that the laborers could see it.

'I did not know minotaurs could move that fast!' Nua thought as they scrambled out of their carts and presented themselves in a line in front of her. She looked over to one side, many a minotaur just sat around, a few ambled hopelessly, wearily, more than a few looked bereft and hungry, if any had a purpose, it was beyond her to tell what it was.

However the actions she was undertaking, had drawn some curious glances.

"I'll make it simple, you build me a temple worthy of a god, I pay you well, you put forth your best effort, I pay you what you deserve for it. And believe me, I 'will' know real effort from fake, and I don't pay slackers." Nua said using the powerful speaking voice she'd been taught to project in class.

With her shoulders back and her body straight, she displayed confidence unthinkable to her a few years earlier, and with her eyes piercing and golden as she pumped mana into the power of her expression, she was the image of 'presence'.

Though she held up a single gold coin in front of her, and 'that' drew far more. "Ten silvers per day, with one gold coin bonus at the end of the week for the best performer."

They would work themselves half to death.

"Also... you can hire from this area if you want extra labor, I'll pay unskilled labor ten coppers per day, just tell me what you'll need. Try to cheat me though, and you'll lose everything. I'm generous, because it is the will of my god that I be so. But do not mistake that for weakness. Because weakness is a sin, and I will not live as a sinner!' She pronounced her words loudly and with force, and ensured that those in the square nearby heard every word, the promise of coin had the shiftless and motionless moving, and as she dismissed the skilled laborers to get to work, they were immediately beset by other minotaurs asking for work.

"This will be an excellent start." Nua said, and set up a few boxes to stand on so that she could preach the message of her god, to skilled and unskilled alike, as they worked to build a temple worthy of his glory. 'I will repay you, Demon of the West, and God of this world...' She thought resolutely, and then began to preach.

_...Crescent Lake..._

Bertra was just about to close up shop when she saw the familiar face of Lovien of house Alu approaching. She opened the door for him, and smiled warmly. "Welcome to 'Brighter Days Book Shop' she said, and waved him in with one arm extending out to encompass her little business.

"Nice, have you been here all that long?" He asked curiously.

"No, not really, I got started shortly after I settled into Crescent Lake, but this is a relatively new thing for me. I haven't lived here but a few years." She said as she closed and locked the door behind her and began to walk to the back of the store.

"Oh, can I ask where you were before that?" He said, and she missed a step as the question caught her off guard.

"N-North." She swallowed hard.

"Oh... sorry... I guess you don't like talking about that, I of all people should know better than to ask something like that." Lovien apologized, shamefaced, from behind her.

"No, it's a natural question, and are we going to spend the next thousand years unable to ask each other where we used to live, out of fear of unpleasant memories?" Bertra shrugged at the question and opened the door into the back, a table awaited him, and she gestured to a chair.

"I hope not, I've got to be honest... I'm not very good at this kind of thing." He said as he moved to take the seat she motioned to.

"It's alright," she smiled warmly, "writing is a skill just like any other, you get better with practice, if you want to write well, write often and look for your mistakes, and try to correct them until you stop making them. I'll help you as much as I can, of course."

He shook his head, "No... I mean... I do intend to do this and I definitely need help but... I was honestly hoping to get to know you a little better too."

Bertra stared at him uncomprehendingly.

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" Bertra asked, her wide eyes locked on his.

"Maybe I should go... I said I'm not good at this, and I've made you uncomfortable. Forgive me." He made to stand, and she shook her head.

"No, no, it's alright." She went over and put her hand to his shoulder and lightly pressed him down to his seat.

"It's just... I didn't know how to take that. I was... well, thank you. Why don't I make some tea, this might not be the best subject to get to know each other over, but you came all this way." Bertra remarked, and quickly moved out of the room as he set himself to writing.

'You can't be serious Bertra, he's an elf and you're... ok yes, an elf, but you used to have his kind, your kind... enslaved. Hell, don't worry about it, just... just do this for the right reason and don't worry about the rest, he'll lose interest in you before his story is done, and then it won't matter.' She pondered in an instant as she began to pour tea into the pot and sparked the plate beneath to heat the water.

_...Nazarick..._

Vanysa was sorely troubled. So much so that she found herself sitting in the bar drinking with Shalltear. She kept her demonic form as a matter of course, it was more comfortable for her. "You know," Shalltear said as she drank, "people come here to be happy, not miserable."

"So I've heard." Vanysa replied, "But I've also heard how you came here after that incident with His Majesty, so it seemed like a good idea."

Shalltear grumbled a bit and took a long drink from her mug. "Maybe I did, but I tried to kill my master, at least I had a reason to be miserable. What's your excuse?" The vampire asked grumpily.

"I almost tortured his daughter." Vanysa said bluntly, and drank her mug all the way down and raised it up way overhead. "Gimmie another!" She shouted.

"Oh well is that a..." Shalltear began, and then sprayed her drink all over Vanysa's face as she heard and understood what was said.

Vanysa calmly wiped her face with the cloth. "Proly shoulda waited fer yah to swallow b'fore ah answered'ja."

Insanity danced like nobles at a ball in those storm gray eyes and she snatched up the mug and began to drink it as fast as she could, the barmaid hadn't gone six steps before Vanysa raised the now empty mug overhead and shouted, "Another! An keep em comin!"

Shalltear was very, very quiet as thoughts ran through her head. 'That was not what I expected, I thought they were friends?'

"She's mah friend, on'a mah only friends... an not only do ah gots tah try'an kill'r out'n court... ah had tah hurt her here tah try'n help'er. An if that ain't bad'nuff..." Vanysa's gray eyes went hard as steel beneath shimmering pools...

"When I saw her on the table and sat beside her... all I wanted was to make her scream for me. It makes no damn sense!" Vanysa shouted, finished another beer, and threw her mug down onto the floor where it shattered into a thousand little pieces.

"Did she do something? I mean, isn't knowing what somebody's done to deserve that, kind of your whole thing?" She waved her hand up and down in front of the demoness's body.

Vanysa nodded emphatically. "Yes! And I tell you Lady Shalltear, I know that girl really... really well. Sessions like what we've sat through together are... intimate, no not that kind. But we get to know each other very well, it's the only way to move past the things we've had to deal with, so I should see every bad thing she's ever done to deserve..." She held out her palm and pointed her sharp talons up for emphasis, "these. But somehow, there's still obscurity, and as I've gotten stronger lately, the urge to hurt her has only grown. I want to help her... I do, but still... when she was there..." Vanysa squeezed her eyes tightly shut.

Shalltear frowned. "We're not exactly friends, you know. Despite our occasional overlapping amusements."

Vanysa nodded slowly. "No, I know."

"But I will give you some good advice." Shalltear said and pointed at her sharply. "There are only three people who know what is wrong with you. You. Her. And Lord Ainz. Neither of you have gotten to the bottom of it yet, but I bet he knows, because he knows everything."

Vanysa lowered her eyes. "How do I ask him... this?!"

"You don't ask, you confess." Shalltear said calmly, "You almost hurt her, and to damage one of his servants is a terrible crime. If you can't keep your head right around her, you need to admit it to him and beg for merciful forgiveness before you offer your life to atone."

Vanysa looked down into her beer, her miserable expression reflected back up at her. "Yeah... yeah that's right. I have to take responsibility... but... I think I should be sober first, I'll wait here until I am... then I'll go see him."

_...Fortress of Last Home..._

Neia stepped out of the gate in front of the Guardian Overseer. "This place looks like shit." Neia said bluntly, "At least I won't have to look at it much." Neia said with a sigh.

Albedo looked around as the gate vanished. The Pope was not wrong. Thick forest was nice enough, but the 'fortress' was one step removed from ruin, chunks torn out of lots of bits of stone, crenelations were broken in places, blasted, burned waste in front of it, a stink of garbage and excrement hung in the air.

Neia turned to face Albedo. "Please just make this quick... 'mother'." She said awkwardly, "I... I hate this degradation. But for father's sake... I'll bear it." She opened her mouth and shut her eyes to await the gag and the hood, and held her hands out with her wrists close together for the chains.

Albedo looked down at the implements in her hand and squeezed her hand into a fist, bending the adamantite chains into a ruined mess.

"No." Albedo looked down at the hood, chains, and the humiliating gag that shoved metal into Neia's mouth to silence her for the hand off. Her golden eyes flashed with anger.

"You're the equivalent of royalty to these insects. Lord Ainz himself elevated you, and if he's your father, that makes me 'mother' and I won't do that to one of mine." Albedo snapped, and Neia closed her mouth, opened her eyes, and lowered her hands. "Let them complain to the king if they're too cowardly to look into your eyes. We're done with this garbage, at least outside of the court." Albedo threw the items back into her pocket dimension with the utmost contempt, and her wings shook with anger as she stormed toward the gate of the fortress. "Now come with me."

"As you wish... mother." Neia said calmly and followed behind the ungodly beauty.

As they entered the open gate, Albedo looked around with distaste, "You couldn't keep a cow out of this place..." Neia said with revulsion as she looked at the broken gaps in the walls.

Albedo moved like water over glass until a large, vigorous looking minotaur seemed to have enough sense to stop her and inquire what she wanted.

"I'm here to deliver a... prisoner. General Neia Baraja of the Sorcerous Empire."

Neia stepped out from behind the tall, statuesque woman and looked up to meet the face of the minotaur who addressed the Guardian Overseer.

"Fine, she's received, I'll put her in the cage, don't really have cells but... we do keep some dogs here, guess she can go in there with them." The minotaur scratched under his chin thoughtfully.

Albedo's golden eyes went wide with outrage, and then an enormous bardiche was under the minotaur's neck before he could understand that there was even a threat. "Offend me or my kingdom like that again, minotaur, and I will feed those dogs your face... a piece at a time. She 'is' a prisoner, but she will 'not' be a dog. Find quarters for her suitable for an officer, and bring out your commander... now, you filthy insect!"

The smell of ammonia in the air increased copiously, and the minotaur warrior raised his head and tilted back to escape the blade of the black bardiche.

Neia barely restrained her smile. Vaguely, the memory of her mother's hand coming down in a rage, returned to her mind, and then receded further into unpleasant memory. Suddenly calling the Lady Albedo by that word seemed much more, 'comfortable' as well as 'comforting'.

The minotaur withdrew, step by step his hooves carried him backward, and he left Neia along with Albedo alone in the courtyard of the fortress. "This place must have been formidable, once. At least by standards not worth mentioning to father." Neia uttered.

"Is that so?" Albedo asked with a dismissive sniff as she turned up her nose.

"Yes... mother. The walls are thick, where they still stand at least, and the towers offer a broad view of the surrounding area, it is clearly a mockery of what once was, but like a corpse on the field, you can still see what it must have been when it still had vigor to it." Neia crinkled her nose as she spoke, and added, "It does smell to the heavens though, I am amazed you didn't smell this all the way back in Nazarick."

"At least you'll avoid the cage." Albedo remarked, "But if they mistreat you..."

Neia half expected her to say 'call for me' instead, Albedo spoke as a demon would, "kill them."

Neia's eyes flashed briefly black, with tiny points of red within, and as she looked down into those depths, Albedo saw what she had not understood before. 'It is... like his... as if she truly were the child of his body. Has she cast herself so thoroughly into his service that her humanity is not what it once was? Or is this some effect of her evangelism, as she tries to become like the god she serves?' Despite her genius, no answer was forthcoming to the Guardian Overseer's mind, and so she was lost in thought until a gray furred old minotaur presented himself.

"I am Mu'Anik, commander of this fortress, I apologize for my subordinate's rude remarks, the prisoner will be afforded every ah, courtesy, while she resides here, and treated as if she herself were a minotaur, and no mere human." The minotaur lowered his head to the demon woman, and Albedo's senses tingled at the back of her mind.

'He is up to something. What is special about this fortress?' She wondered, only to be jolted out of her thoughts by the feel of Neia's hand on her arm.

"It will be fine, all will be as father wills it, no matter what that end may be, into his will, I commend my spirit." Neia's voice was so resolutely tranquil, as if no end mattered at all, that for a moment Albedo was taken aback, a state she knew shouldn't have surprised her, given what the small human had already done in his name.

Neia stepped in front of her and looked over her shoulder, her eyes the picture of darkness, with only a faint hint of red in the deepest of recesses, "Thank you... mother, for bringing me this far, I will see you at the trial, when the time comes again, you can leave me here now, I will be in... his care."

The peaceful, quiet voice of the human sent tingling shivers down Mu'Anik's spine and made his hairs stand on end, as if he were confronted with some new threat and not a prisoner. 'Being rid of this thing will be a relief.' He thought to himself when the little human stepped forward.

"Yes, I have her now, thank you, please rest assured, we will not do her any harm." Mu'Anik reassured the Guardian Overseer, and stepped aside to gesture to a termite eaten door behind where they stood.

'Idiot... it is not 'your' care of whom my daughter speaks... whatever is happening, woe to you if you anger my beloved... or myself, by what you do here next.' Albedo thought, and walked away, when the Black Paladin vanished behind a closed door.


	25. Stampede

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 25: Stampede

_...Fortress of Last Home..._

When they were alone, Neia was not long in finding out just what mystery was left unknown to her before.

Mu'Anik turned on her, "I will be blunt. Prisoners sent here, are sent here to fight. You are a prisoner here, therefore you will fight when I tell you, and if you die, I don't give a damn."

Neia didn't say a word, she only looked at him, sky blue eyes staring without guile at him through the light of the cheap candles that hung along the walls.

"Don't expect to live, you're only a human, and the things that fight out there, are beastmen. They routinely kill minotaurs, so a little animal like you? You're prey." He said as he looked down at her, the eerie sense he had earlier was gone, and he dismissed it as an effect of the winged being that delivered her.

Neia said nothing, so he simply turned around and walked on until he came to a door, "You were going to be thrown in with the dogs, but this is... better. Get in." He said, and opened the wet wood that the crumbling construction had failed to keep dry.

Neia obeyed without a word. 'If I hadn't heard her speak, I'd wonder if she was mute... something wrong with her? What could that thing have done to be in this kind of situation?' A fragment of him pitied her, but he crushed it easily enough.

"Your sword is over there, we have no armor suitable for you, just make do, and when you hear the bell, come out to the courtyard." Mu'Anik said, and Neia nodded without a word.

As the door shut behind her, she looked around. The cot was dirty, blood stained, and rotted. The blanket was no better, the stone was filthy, both for the walls and the floor, a half burned candle sat on a barred window, the metal for which was rusty.

She went over to the sword he'd pointed out, and picked it up. "Well, this is garbage." She said to herself as she hefted it. She balanced the sword on her fingers by setting it there at the tang. It tilted and fell forward. "Pathetic." She grumbled and caught the hilt and held it up, the edge was shit, it would take hours to sharpen, and flecks of blood and rust were spattered about, the one who made it hadn't even put a channel for the blood to run off. In short, to her, there was nothing good about it. Worst of all to her mind however... "Steel? Not even very good steel." She snorted in professional contempt.

"Fighting with this garbage would be a disgrace to father's name." She muttered, "I want 'my' equipment." She said to the empty room. "There's blood coming here... I can feel it... feel it in my bones..." She whispered and looked serenely to the blue sky beyond the bars of the room that confined her.

And so, after a moment's hesitation, she sent the message request.

Mu'Anik went back to his office as quickly as he could, that human's silence and tranquility was unnerving, like she wasn't all there, it was comfortable to get some distance between it and himself. But he wasn't alone for long.

Mu'Bin burst into the office only moments later. "Sir... it's begun early... our scouts report skirmishes against the Devor, they're over the border, a-a few hundred. Please... let us go and stop them."

"Did you warn the villages?" Mu'Anik asked with flat indifference.

"Y-Yessir." Mu'Bin replied.

"Then you've done your part, if they choose not to run, what can we do?" Mu'Anik asked. He parted his hands and looked at Mu'Bin as if there were nothing to be done.

"We can fight, sir! We can take our Kiril-damned axes and cut them down!" Mu'Bin exclaimed.

"Because that worked so well last time?" Mu'Anik asked sarcastically. "Nope, we're staying here, I'll let you go out and fight those things if they come this way. Otherwise, my answer is no. Warn, skirmish, withdraw, anyone slow to escape, deserves what happens." Mu'Anik replied bluntly.

Mu'Bin looked at him in frustration for the hundredth time. "Sir, can't we at least... I don't know, send that new thing, the prisoner you're going to ah... take care of? I mean it may be small but perhaps it can buy enough time for at least one more of our people to get away!"

Mu'Anik shook his head, "No, too obvious, besides, it might try to run away, then it would be a problem for me."

"So you'll wait till you get the chance to throw us away too." Mu'Bin said with weary resignation.

Mu'Anik looked nonplussed as he said, "Yes, you know what happens if you try to leave this place. Fight hard, and you'll survive another day."

Mu'Bin slowly reached over his back for his ax, Mu'Anik did not physically react.

"Go ahead and do it, you'd succeed in taking my head, of that I'm sure, but what happens if you do that, you sure you want them out here next? Killing me won't protect him. Besides, you know what'll happen if they ever go far beyond this fortress, you really do get to fight the ones who would eat him." Mu'Anik remarked indifferently.

Mu'Bin's hand drew away from the hilt and went back down to his side.

"Good boy, now, just keep the scouts out and reporting on any movement toward this fortress, at the very least, I want us ready to fight 'here'." Mu'Anik said contemptuously.

Mu'Bin slumped, turned around, and trudged out, and Mu'Anik reached for a wineskin and started to drink before the door of his office had even fully shut.

_...Ainz's office..._

Vanysa prostrated herself as soon as she was allowed to enter. "Master... master, please forgive me." She whimpered, choking the words out through sobs.

Ainz felt his emotional dampener kicking in, 'Oh hell, what's going on 'now'?' He wondered, though outwardly he said, "Calm yourself Vanysa, forgive you for what?"

"For... master something is wrong with me! Something is twisted and broken... and it's... master, every time I'm with your daughter... it's all I can do to keep from hurting her... I don't know what's wrong, what's happening! I'm a fury, but she's obscured to me, and even though she is, which itself don't make no sense... all ah can think of is cuttin an bitin an makin her sing fer me... she's yer daughter, she's mah friend an ah don know whas goin on! Ahm scared! Ah was s'posed tah help'er an ah trahd, las time, but... but... when ah had'er chained down... all ah wanted ta do was start cuttin! Yah cain't let me near her... bahd 'nuff ahm tryin ta get'er killed out ther!"

Vanysa's words went from sane and sensible if emotional... to the unstructured voice of the rudest of uneducated peasants, and her eyes danced with absolute madness that seemed to barely comprehend anything. She kept herself prostrated on the floor, but looked up from where she was at rest.

"Please... master... please... help me..." She managed to say clearly as she struggled desperately to hold on to who she was, her wings trembled as they hugged her body. "I love you... I love you so much... you saved me, helped me, taught me, protected me, avenged me... I'd do anything for you... anything... please don't let me live to cause you any pain, stop me... even if... yah gots ta kill me ta do it... ah ain't got an don't want no life if'n it means my livin does somethin that hurts yah. An what mah instinct're screamin at me tah do tah her..." She squeezed her storm grey eyes shut.

Ainz listened quietly as she got that out, and he was eminently grateful for his emotional suppressor as it worked on overtime as Vanysa broke down in front of him.

"Please... master... do somethin... anythin... ah cain't take it... bein pulled everwhich way an not knowin what tah do..." Vanysa whispered out, she heard him stand up, and barely heard the sound of him walking over to where she lay prostrate and unmoving except for a shaking she couldn't control no matter what she did.

Ainz crouched down next to her head, and lay his skeletal hand on the black hair that grew from her demonic head. "Get up, and look at me." He said evenly in the commanding voice she loved.

She slowly rose to her knees, and when his bone fingers went under her chin, she did not resist as he raised her face to meet his.

"Vanysa... do you know how I made you what you are?" Ainz asked as his mind raced a thousand miles a moment.

She shook her head, "N-No Majesty." She sniffled.

"Your body was delivered to me in horrible shape, maggots had eaten their way into your wounds, the pear of anguish had torn you, the whip had ripped off flesh, there were more wounds on you from Astraka, than you likely even remember them inflicting, not to mention what was torn apart by fish in the waters where you were found." Ainz explained slowly, patiently, and she trembled again at the memory of the brutal torture her current prisoner had inflicted on her.

"I... don't understand, master?" Vanysa asked through her trembling lips.

"In this world, those who die can refuse resurrection, and those with weak bodies, have their flesh reduced to dust if they cannot sustain a resurrection spell. As so many things had been done to you, and you died in terror, not only of pain, but of failing me, and your body was very, very weak, I feared you would not be able to endure an attempt at resurrection. And so... I used a morphomantic spell, changing your form to something strong enough to survive. I chose the form of a fury, because they long for revenge above all else. I had hoped, rightly, that you would be drawn to that. Understand so far?" He asked, and she nodded vigorously.

"Your body was essentially used like an ingredient, a reagent to make something else where a human had been, that is why you are as you are. Because your demonic nature is laying claim to the part of you that is still human." Ainz lowered his head, "You destroyed yourself to keep faith with me, and as a result, I changed you. However..." He put a finger to her lips, "there is more. The reason you cannot see Neia's actions clearly, is that they are not all clear to her either. As she remembers more of them, as you did of your time with Astraka before that, they will become clear to you. Your instincts toward her grow, because your power does. To put that into perspective, if you were to fight Meidhall again as you did before, I think you would defeat her handily."

Vanysa sucked her breath in surprise... "B-But she's mah friend, an yer you, ah ain't ever had much back then, but yer all, them ones ah like, all worth the world tah me, ah don't wanna be the one what hurts thems..." She stopped, her insane eyes reflecting a bitter, bitter struggle within before she met his face again.

"I would rather die, than lose control, and torture Neia. There must be something you can do, Master." She looked at him in desperation and confidence.

Ainz nodded slowly, filling her with relief. "From this point forward, outside of the court, you are expressly tasked with the absolute protection of Neia Baraja's life and safety, even at the cost of your own, whenever she is in your presence."

Vanysa looked profoundly confused... but only for a moment, and then it began to dawn on her, and her gray eyes went big as saucers.

"I 'can't' disobey that... can I? I can't even want to... it's like if... if Lady Shalltear turned me into a vampire, all I'd want is to serve and obey her." Vanysa asked in quiet disbelief.

Ainz stood up without answering, "You were never as free as you thought you were, I did not realize you were unaware of this... but now you know, and... I hope you can forgive me."

Vanysa shook her head, "I admit... this leaves... questions. Am I still myself? Or am I just a puppet on strings bearing the memories of a dead girl? What thoughts are really mine at all? Do I have any will of my own... but... at least I know this, Master." Vanysa looked up at him and slowly prostrated herself before him.

She spoke slowly, clearly, articulately, and with the conviction of a truly faithful servant swearing allegiance that was already given in the quietness of the heart before it was ever given voice. "I am yours. I made that vow, before I had this wonderful body... I loved you years ago, and the loyalty of that dead girl you put into this marvelous form... was absolute, if I'm not her, or if I am her... I know I am truly yours, and I would rather be your puppet, and serve you faithfully, than live freely the way she did before you, ever again. That will, was also hers. I think... I think I will be no threat to Neia now... no matter what she does... thank you... thank you my beloved lord..."

_...Re-Estize...Re-Estize..._

"For the sake of all that is our faith, we who treasured the safe return of our loved ones, owe it to those who sacrificed all, to ensure their safety. The temples will support you who undertake this venture, because you do this for the sake of something greater than yourselves, to bring a hero home! That she not die without holding the child that, even now kicks within my belly, aching to enter the world to the loving arms of parents who will adore it! If that is not worthy of your labor, what is?!" Skana called out her aching heart to the crowd of worshipers within the temple of Black Justice, gate to gate she'd gone, city to city, it was a whirlwind tour the likes of which she'd never dreamed of in her childhood.

As her aides went and took names, others were visiting the training grounds where priests were forged out of the faithful, and while both were doing that, Skana went and took a seat and lightly caressed the belly where her child was growing. "I can't wait to meet you, and you know what... your other mother can't wait either. I don't know where she is right now, but I know she's thinking of us both, and all she wants is to come home again." Lightly, gently, the one eyed warrior woman who had pierced the flesh of hundreds and claimed their lives without mercy or regret, sang to the unborn child for which she was already prepared to forsake the world, if that was what it took to protect it.

"Woe to them... that threatens the child of the mother of wrath" Skana smiled sweetly down at the bump, and as a chill sensation swept over her as if danger were coming near to the woman she loved, she turned to look east, as though she could see through the wall of the great temple, and across the miles to the distant Minotaur Kingdom, she felt that she could smell the scent of blood rising in her nostrils.

_...Last Home..._

Neia grumbled with annoyance on the second day of her time in Last Home. _ 'Their Discipline is shit, their weapons are shit, their armor is nonexistent, their fortress is shit, their commander is shit, it even smells like shit. If this were my command, I'd be reaming out asses so hard nobody would sit for a month. The hell kind of unit is this?!'_ Neia groused as she moved through the line to take some lukewarm stew. Unlike the prison, none of the minotaurs here challenged her, but as she looked at the way they trudged through the line, she knew why they didn't.

'Their spirits are broken, they haven't got much fight left in them... what the hell is happening out here?!' She wondered as she took the bowl back to her disgusting room without a word to anyone.

She found out just 'what' the next day, when the bell went off.

She went out carrying the shit sword she'd been given, and still wearing the crude sackcloth that served as prisoner clothing. The rest of the fortress was trudging out like zombies into the courtyard.

They carried axes, but most barely did more than drag them, as if they were unwanted burdens.

She heard a noise behind her, and looked up over her shoulder, the gray haired old minotaur was up top looking over them.

"Our scouts report that the Devor raiders took very few, only a hundred and fifty of the aged, the carrying, and the children from the surrounding villages, our warning was a 'success' and now they are coming 'here' to make up the difference. So... hurry up and die for me." Seeing Neia down below, he pointed to her, "You, human, go get up front."

Neia felt her mouth drop open as she heard what he said.

The dots began to connect in her mind. "So this is it."

'So it does fear, well that'll make this easier.' Mu'Anik thought as the ranks parted and she stared unbelieving up at him.

"Mind if I get another weapon?" She asked as the formation parted for her.

Mu'Anik barely suppressed a laugh.

"Find an old knife in there? Well, why not, one more swing can't hurt. Be quick, if you're not back by the three hundredth tap of my hoof, I'll throw you naked and tied up to the Devor, and you can maybe shout them to death." He laughed at his own joke as she ran back inside, threw on the armor of the Grand King Busar, donned her sword and bow, put on her boots and cloak, and her less often used visor for good measure.

She took a deep breath as if she were about to enjoy a picnic. "Now this... THIS is more like it." She jogged out as she heard the words, "Two hundred ninety six..."

His hoof stopped in mid descent as she made her appearance again, and walked without a word through the hole the formation kept open for her.

Mu'Anik's mouth was agape. "They're coming..." Someone shouted from the wall.

Neia couldn't see them yet, but she could hear them, behind her, the stomping hooves of minotaurs trudging forlornly forward reached her ears. The pathetic excuse for a gate was opening up, she stopped and turned behind her.

"Minotaurs!" She shouted, calling upon the power of the voice of the divine, "Disobey that old trash that stands atop the wall!"

Mu'Anik froze stiff at the insult, and the few hundred minotaurs that followed her, were no less frozen than he.

"Do not die for that trash! Instead, live because you have a job to do! Who sheds his blood for his comrade is a brother! You are not going out to die for him, you are going out there to fight for one another! If you must be sacrifices! If you must die! If I must die! Then let it be so that the one beside you may live! In every hand lies the life of those with whom you live! Beyond this fortress, stand the children of your nation! If you must die, then die for them! If you must fight, then fight for them! I cannot promise anyone their lives beyond the opening of that gate! But this, this I can promise... that if you fight with the ferocity with which your ancestors forged a kingdom, you can make an end of yourself that will terrify the Devor for a hundred years! Though I am but a human, I am prepared to fight, are you worth less than I?! Bring back your pride, and prove that is not so!"

Her voice pounded through their veins and their weary hearts began to beat and their bloodlust began to rise.

The gate opened, and Neia beheld the Devor for the first time. Catmen and bearmen, behemoths on par with or greater than the size or speed of a minotaur.

Neia began to advance, the spirit she'd pounded into the minotaurs was not broken, and they walked behind her, she drew her bow and fired the first shot, **[Snakeshot] ** She whispered, and guided it through seven beastmen as they ran toward her position with bloodlust in their eyes.

"Oh... they're aggressive. She said as she began to send arrows flying at them in the distance, one by one they fell with arrows in their eyes and Neia began to laugh.

"Is she insane?" Mu'Anik wondered. And then thought better of it as he saw her arrows rip through flesh like a fist through paper.

The minotaurs behind her, having never seen the bow in action before if she had to guess, watched it drop targets one after the other, and it did not stop until she ran out of arrows, but still the Devor charged over the open ground toward the hill on which the shitwreck of a fortress stood.

"Fine." Neia said grimly, "This will take sterner measures."

"Kill them all... kill them all kill them all kill them all... blood... you want blood, you were born to end lives, take the lives that belong to you... the goal of all life is death... now help them all achieve life's goal!" She whispered over her shoulder at the minotaurs behind her, and their eyes went blank, and turned red as bloodlust overtook them.

And something happened that the Devor had not heard in an age.

They heard a minotaur warcry. The infection of bloodlust spread like mad as the voice that whispered destruction to Wheaton, caught fire in the hatred of the Minotaurs for those who had preyed on them since the time of their grandfathers.

Hooves trampled the earth beneath and Neia howled with bloodlust of her own as she drew out her sword and ran forward. The Devor froze in disbelief at the impossible...

The broken spirits had been reforged in the image of berzerker madness, Axes rose and fell and the spirit of the battle began to change like the turning of one season to another.

"Your lives belong to my god!" Neia howled like a banshee as she turned her voice on the Devor, "Give them to me! Give them all to me! Ha...ahah ahaha hahahahaha!" All reason was gone, all sense was gone. **[Death Grip][Wrath and Retribution][Endurance of Unlife][Grim Hand]** She used one Black Paladin martial art after another as the distance closed to the beastmen, her mind went farther from sanity, and she was among the quailed hearts of her prey. Her adamantite blade ripped through armor and flesh like it wasn't there.

A few feet away, a minotaur lowered his head and rushed headlong with berserker strength, only a little faster than his brethren, he hit first, but right behind him others had done the same, and the mad bulls bowled over their opponents no fewer than eight deep before they even began to use their battle axes in earnest, the worthless steel heads often shattered or broke, but the bars were used to bash in brains.

Neia's eyes turned black as night but for her red eyes as she sought lives to end... _'Blood...guts...blood...guts...kill...kill…'_ They weren't even thoughts, they were primal instincts that made the mere existence of life in her presence anathema. She felt like she was moving slowly, but everything else seemed like molasses. A tigerman came too close, and she snatched it by the upper and lower jaws, and ripped them apart, spraying blood and bone and teeth everywhere, and her battle cry did not stop, as if a banshee possessed her voice, and air was no longer needed to give sound to death screams. The display gave pause to those next three. Two bearmen and a panther woman.

Rage. Rage. Rage. Death's Paladin walked the field of battle as if she had been born there. Vague thoughts were replaced by impulses. A claw thrust out as if to rend her throat, and her sword rose and fell, hacking the arm the way she'd chopped carrots into pieces, and finishing the kill by putting her ki into her flattened hand and thrusting it into the exposed throat of the overreaching unfortunate pantherwoman. She fell and rolled onto her back, looking up in disbelief as if she could not understand what had killed her. Her maw opened and closed, and she had enough time yet to look up in fear at the black lifeless eyes of the human that had killed it, before the boot of the Black Paladin, enhanced by the power of her profession, came down on her skull and crushed the life into mush.

If there was order to her thoughts, or any thought at all nobody could have picked it out, and it didn't matter, furious wrath was turned on the beastmen, her sword went through the guts of a bearman, it tried to bring its paw down to beat her, only for the grim hand to snatch the wrist and turn the bone within to dust, and fling the being bodily into its brethren. Her evangelist enhanced warcry ripped through the air as if that were in the way of the foemen, and tore into their fighting spirits as her adamantite blade tore through flesh, bone, and what armor they had wasted their effort bringing to the field.

Minotaur warcries pierced the air as the company of broken warriors turned unreasoning berserkers ripped into the unprepared Devor raiders and the tide turned sharply. A heavy blow struck Neia's armor from behind, and bounced off of her as if it were nothing but a bit of hail.

A brief memory surfaced, of standing before Jaldabaoth's armies, and taking a ballista bolt to the chest, before she stood back up and resumed her killing. This had not even knocked her down. She smiled a bloody smile at the club weilding tiger man, and pounced on him with legs endowed with the strength of the undead, her teeth sank into his neck as her free hand ripped at his fur. Though he tried to claw at her, he lost the first hand that did so. She tore out his throat with a bite as strong as a zombie, and whirled to seek new lives to end, landing lightly on her feet as the monster stood for a moment, then toppled lifeless to its back as its blood pumped into the dead ground around it. Her face was so coated with blood, and with the flesh still dangling from her mouth, her eyes an endless whorling void.

"I see you…" Her voice reverberated in the grim echo that ripped away the will of kings to continue looking into her eyes, "I will see you forever…" She said in a hushed reverberating voice that the unfortunate lionwoman that now faced her, took to be a promise to consume her very soul.

That beastmen nearest her, who beheld the impossible warrior coated with blood and entrails, who was seemingly hungry to devour the very flesh of their bodies and the souls within, felt her spirit break and she began to flee. She was the first… but not the last.

"Kill them all!" Neia screamed the order, but it was needless, the minotaur berserkers had abandoned any pretense of care for their lives or for reason or for mercy. They chased the beastmen down, and though the catmen were faster in theory, they had fought hard and run to the fortress in the first place, they were weary, while both the minotaurs and Neia alike had entered a berserker rage, that knew neither weariness or kindness, and could not end until there was nothing left of their enemies to kill.

No raider of the Devor survived even two minutes more, nor made it more than fifty feet from where the rout began.

Neia thrust her sword at the sky, and screamed a warcry over the battlefield that robbed even the spirits of the dead of their courage, and rang far, far beyond the borderlands. There was no pinkness to the flesh that could still be seen, there was only blood, soaking her hair, drenching her clothing and her flesh. As if she had ceased to be human, but instead a monster comprised of the blood of the dead.

Then, and only then, did she collapse.

Up on the wall behind her, Mu'Anik felt his bones freeze as the minotaur berserkers returned, and gathered around the fallen human, and after picking her up on their shoulders, began to carry her silently back within the fortress in formation once again, as soldiers would a fallen hero.

His heart was pounding madly in his breast, his pulse raced, he felt himself start to pant with panic as he watched Mu'Bin and his fellows bear the female prisoner back to the courtyard. "What... have they done?" Mu'Anik wondered with a mix of awe... and terror.


	26. Services Rendered

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 26: Services Rendered

**AN: Tell you what... 100 reviews... and I'll post the next chapter early. You who have read 'God Rising' know how this works. ;) This may be my last full Overlord story other than finishing my existing work, I'd like to end it with a bang. Incidentally... my first estimate for this one was 30,000 or so words and it was due to be short. I was wrong again. :D**

_...Menowa..._

Raymond followed Pandora's Actor with patience and silence as he contemplated what the being had said. They were halfway from Kirakira Prison to the capital when he finally said anything. Pandora's Actor sat across from him with arms folded over his chest and looked idly out the window of the fantastic royal carriage, he seemed little inclined to speak.

The former Cardinal felt little differently for most of the ride, and looked out the other window. "Do you really think she'll fight for the minotaurs where they've shoved her?"

"Ja." Pandora's Actor said flatly. "Have you not met her?" He asked flatly.

Raymond didn't let that pass. "Yes. It seems more likely she'd kill the ones who strove to use her like that."

Pandora's Actor turned his blank face on the Cardinal.

"In other conditions, she might, but she was ordered to behave while in Minotaur Kingdom custody. There is no order she would not follow, if it came from our Lord." He said calmly, with a hint of reproof in his voice.

"Behaving... I suppose it counts as behaving but... it amazes me that they'd be so stupid. You can't make a slave warrior out of... 'that' and expect it to end well." Raymond responded bluntly and crossed his own arms as if defying Pandora's Actor to disagree.

The blank face seemed almost 'respectful' at Raymond's answer. "They may be desperate, you must know the poverty here, the Beastmen have been tormenting this kingdom for centuries. They are a broken people, Mu'Fidelius has been trading lives to Devor, for days of continued independence, more or less."

"How do you know so much about this?" Raymond asked with a sudden curiosity.

"It is our business to know the world we live in, every guardian, even Lady Shalltear, could give a complete rundown on the state and nature of the politics of the nations beyond our borders. The Devor and their allies are 'the' great threat in the center of the continent... at least to the nations around them."

Raymond frowned deeply, "I thought we in the Theocracy were thorough, you put us to shame."

Pandora's Actor politely nodded and leaned back in his seat. "Knowledge is the greatest weapon of war and politics, mein Vater in his wisdom, required us to know all of what we would possibly need."

"Alright, but... focusing on the moment, what's next for me?" Raymond asked as he turned his mind to the present.

Pandora's Actor slowly raised a finger and held it an inch from Raymond's nose, and the eyes of the cardinal looked fixed down at the white gloved fingertip. The agent of the Sorcerer King spoke with gravity and seriousness, all sense of drama was gone, leaving only the sincerity of the absolute. "You tell all, you leave nothing out. The way half elven children were sold by their fathers or used as leverage against the mothers who were forced to carry them. The way they were used as tools, like Zesshi Zetsumei..."

Raymond winced and clenched his fists, while Pandora's Actor went on. "Only to be cast aside, you detail every mission you ever went on, approved, or had knowledge of that would give your country an edge. You confess, Raymond Zarg Larrenson, to what your country did, everything from the burnings to the auction blocks. To its own people, to nonhumans, you make them sick, you make them disgusted, you make sure that they know, to the very core of their being... why General Baraja 'broke' as she did. You make them crave to emulate her, and glad she did all that she did. I know my counterparts have something planned to destroy her out there, though even I cannot know what, but I want them to fail. You may be my best chance at that."

"I see. Seems strange to be expected to save the life of the one who ignored me when I begged for her mercy." Raymond said coldly.

"Perhaps, but I remind you Cardinal, that the reason you are only asked to tell the truth and nothing but the truth, is because the truth is the best way to acquit her of the charges laid against her, for refusing to grant you the mercy you asked for."

Raymond stroked his beard thoughtfully, "I still can't believe all this, it's been a few years now, and it still seems unreal. Berenice, Ginedine, Maximillian, Yvon, Necran, Dominic... all gone. I hope Nua and the children are doing well."

"Ja, ze kinder were mostly reunited with their parents, for the rest a special building was constructed to allow the ones you and your fellow cardinals rescued to remain together when their parents could not be found. Those parents who were found, were hired as staff to care for the rest. Neia and her wife funded it out of their own pockets." Pandora's Actor remarked, adding the final sentence as if he were offering a rebuke.

"I... find that hard to believe. That the woman who could drown and burn and smash cities, who could wreak such havoc that she was compared to the very demon that destroyed her country... was capable of that?" Raymond asked rhetorically.

"No one is all one piece, Cardinal Raymond. Even Dominic loved one or two, and believed himself righteous. Even Remedios believed she was fighting for humanity. In the end, she did what she thought was necessary, and if Neia lost herself in rage at the moment, well how many times can you poke a dragon before you lose the right to complain if it devours you in an instant of fury?" Pandora's Actor asked rhetorically.

That left Raymond feeling thoughtful. "I can never really forgive her... but... I understand your point. Put that way, I suppose I must see her in a different light. The way she spoke of that dead girl, the one who died in Wenmark, if someone did that to Nua... I might become like the General myself. In a way, I pity her. Speaking of... if it is not too much to ask, do you know anything of Nua?"

"She went west to Hoburns to study for the priesthood, she chose to follow the faith that fought for her freedom." There was no rebuke in Pandora's Actor's tone, only passive indifference as if he were speaking of the weather, but to Raymond it was a ray of sunshine bursting through gray clouds.

He sighed with relief, "I'm glad she did well, I admit, I envy her now. But after so long confined to one city, she deserves to be free to see everything. I do hope I can see her again one day."

They rode on in a more amicable silence until they rolled up to the great pavilion, and Raymond held up his wrists and had them secured in chains. Given his passivity, it was more symbolic than anything else, but he knew better than to argue.

They got out of the carriage under the bright sun, and Raymond glanced around for the brief moment that he had. There was a huge commotion of labor not far away, minotaurs were working double quick to unload materials, sanding wood, cutting stone, hammers went up and down, one entire building had been reduced to a destroyed heap, while another was rapidly falling.

"The first temple to my god in the Minotaur Kingdom. A new priest arrived recently, followed the instructors you met in Kirakira Prison." Pandora's Actor explained, and then taking Raymond's right shoulder, he gently guided the last Cardinal away from the curious chaos, and toward the entrance.

"How long will I be up there on the stand?" Raymond asked as they descended the steps.

"Days. Weeks. It falls to you, how long will it take you to tell them everything?" Pandora's Actor asked casually.

Raymond swallowed, "I hope they have water, I'm going to need it, this will take awhile."

Pandora's Actor sat at the table... replaced since Neia's episode, and both Demiurge and Vanysa took their seats, while Raymond sat on the long stone seating between two large, armed minotaurs, and Albedo entered to seat herself beside Pandora's Actor.

A moment later, the rest of the officials entered, their faces still hidden and disguised, the adjudicator took his seat, followed by all others.

When all were prepared, Albedo stood, "I ask the court's indulgence, and permit my client to be absent for some time, due to the previous incident, following her recovery, she was taken out of Kirakira Prison, and relocated to the custody of the Fortress of Last Home, presumably at the behest of some who felt anxious about her being near at hand for 'difficult' testimony. As today we will be calling forth Cardinal Raymond, last ruler of the Slane Theocracy, we believed it best that she be kept away from here until after he has had his say."

"Objections?" The adjudicator looked over to where Demiurge and Vanysa sat, the two traded seemingly innocent looks, before the archdevil stood up.

"None, she isn't necessary for this." Demiurge replied as he pushed his glasses up against his crystalline eyes, and then reseated himself.

There was an audible exhale of relief from around the court.

"Proceed." The adjudicator said.

"I call Cardinal Raymond Zarg Larrenson to the stand." Albedo said confidently, and the cardinal stood, every step felt like he was weighed down with armor made of lead.

Yet on he went, the low footfalls echoed around the pavilion from one side to the other until he went to the replacement podium, this one made of black stone, and after making his oath, he, prompted by Lady Albedo... began to tell his story.

He spoke relentlessly, pausing only to drink water and once to relieve himself, he revealed the five hundred year plan that would ultimately have resulted in breeding the elves out of existence in the south, then repeating the process on the dark elves in the Northwest and the forging of a genocidal alliance with the Roble Holy Kingdom that would have exterminated the entirety of the demihuman populations in the Abelion Hills. He revealed their plans to use Wenmark as a model for the use of nonhuman labor followed by gradual extermination.

All of this was punctuated by the occasional question...

"How did your nation plan on ensuring that the Roble Holy Kingdom would favor such an alliance?" Albedo asked curiously.

"Well any long term plan requires room for adjustment, but most models suggested that our Agante could either manipulate them into starting a war and then offering our assistance, or manipulate the demihumans into invading through a disguised proxy, and then we could swoop in as saviors. Anything of the Holy Kingdom that survived, could easily be occupied and added to the fold. One model included forging an alliance with the dark elves to go west, and then using them as fodder to weaken them before enslaving whatever was left and then working them to death rebuilding whatever of the Holy Kingdom that was destroyed." Raymond replied matter of factly.

'Hmpf, five hundred year plan... pathetic when my Lord can plan for twenty thousand.' Demiurge thought contemptuously, though he noted one or two interesting innovations when Raymond learned more details of the plan to unite Re-Estize with Baharuth to create an invincible northern wall of humanity as a buffer state against Argland.

It went on this way... for three straight days, before Pandora's Actor received an unexpected message.

Given what he knew, it had been no surprise on the first day when he got a message from Neia. 'You want 'your' equipment?' Pandora's Actor listened to the message and answered, 'I would be happy to provide it, but... oh it is that bad, is it? I see... so essentially you're a slave warrior while a prisoner in that fortress, I feared that might be the case after what Mu'Ulm said. I will provide it promptly, I need only excuse myself from court while Raymond testifies.'

However the message Pandora's Actor received on the third day... was unexpected. 'A guide? Yes I can provide you a guide, I know one in Kirakira prison who is from that region, and providing him with equipment will take no time at all. Very well, I will call for a brief recess and have someone brought to you soon.'

And within the hour, Pandora's Actor found himself standing in front of warden Mu'Ka. "You want me to let one of my prisoners 'go'? You can't be serious?" The big warden replied bluntly.

"I am quite serious, I will take responsibility, and he is not going 'free' it is only a parole, for a short time, long enough to render a service to your kingdom."

"Why should I believe you?" Mu'Ka asked and folded his arms defiantly in front of himself.

"Because this is 'her' request. I do not know the details, but meine sister does not lie, not on matters like this. She is more likely to grind your snout in the truth than anything else." Pandora's Actor replied with a snort.

Mu'ka was quiet for a moment as he thought about Neia's promise to leave the place better than she found it. From his office, he heard the vague echoes of elven instructors calling out orders... orders that prisoners were following. "I am authorized to grant one 'special parole' per year, I have been here for a number of years though, and never once used it. I'll do it, just this once, for 'one'. I expect him to be returned in one week's time, or I expect his 'corpse' to be."

Mu'Ka then reached into the drawer of his desk and withdrew a dust covered box that held a stack of wooden cards. He held the card out to Pandora's Actor, on it was carved an ax, on the other side, the symbol of the royal house. It was a simple, crude carving that had been burned into place very carefully to ensure it stood out.

"The symbol of our strength, an ax, and the royal house, who guarantees it. Go, get the prisoner, and then get out. I've had quite enough disruption since you people arrived in here, and I need a break." Mu'Ka added, and slumped back in his chair as if exhausted.

Pandora's Actor didn't argue, he simply went to the guard, had Mu'Ulm brought to the entrance where he waited for the behemoth.

"You? You were here for the human... Raymond. What do you want with me? And why am I at the entrance? And why isn't 'she' back yet? And why do I think most of those things are probably related?" Mu'Ulm asked hastily.

Though Pandora's Actor had no face to speak of, the emotional sense that one drew from him was unmistakable.

"You are from the eastern part of your kingdom? You know the way? The paths, the roads?" Pandora's Actor asked in a forceful tone with his hands folded formally behind his back.

"It's been many years, but yes, I know it still." Mu'Ulm replied as he looked down at the slender, manlike being in the 'loud' green and black clothing with its shining silver buttons.

"Good. Then there are only two questions." Pandora's Actor slowly, dramatically, raised one hand as he drew it from behind his back and pointed up to the giant minotaur warrior. "Are you willing to help Neia Baraja, and are you willing to fight if you must, with... proper equipment, gifted at her will for your use."

"Outside of here? Inside here? Either will do. As I said to her when she spared my life, 'I am her minotaur.' Give me what I need, and let's go." Mu'Ulm said resolutely.

Within minutes he found himself holding an oversized round shield that felt solid as a mountain and light as a feather. It's burnished metal cast off light, and faint symbols glowed around the edge. His body was well protected, but he looked hesitantly down at his bare legs.

"Fear not. That is probability armor." Pandora's Actor explained, "It plays with luck and chance, it means there is an insanely high chance that any blows or arrows flung to you, will either miss entirely, or hit your armor, and miss those more vulnerable legs. I noticed that minotaurs tend to wear very little, you need no boots, your women wear only the slit leg fronts and backs, and only cross wrap their breasts, and you men wear even less than they in total fabric. This should be in keeping with your personal comfort, while still protecting you... and this..." Pandora's Actor held out an ax.

Mu'Ulm looked at it with his jaw parted, it was all white, save for the black grip and a black wrist strap that would keep it secured to his hand, "This should assist you in ending any lives you need to."

"A white blade... it was said that when Kiril first came among us, he carried an ax like this."

"It is enchanted for greater bleeding damage, sharpness, and..." Pandora's Actor laughed dramatically and drew from a pocket dimension a single block of orichalcum.

"Hit it." Pandora's Actor said, and tossed it in front of Mu'Ulm at shoulder level.

Instinctively, he swung the ax and cleaved the metal ingot in two like it wasn't there.

The minotaur looked at the ax, and down at the ground where the two halves of the ingot sat in defiance of what Mu'Ulm thought to be possible.

"Only Kiril's Ax could do this... how...?" Mu'Ulm felt the stirrings of religious wonder enter his voice that he had not felt since he was a young bull listening to bardic stories of the unification of his people.

"I am a creation of the one god, I guard and keep his treasures, I do not know where he gets them all. Perhaps Kiril was one of his own, perhaps he was a rival or a friend... my master is an ancient undead, who can say what memories he keeps for himself?" Pandora's Actor spread his arms open as if to ask who could possibly answer the unanswerable.

"Now... we go." He said, and the gate opened, and through it, they stepped.


	27. The Company of Sin

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 27: The Company of Sin

"Is it... is it dead?" Mu'Anik asked hopefully. 'If it dies, there's no problem.' He thought optimistically.

Mu'Bin looked up with fury on his face only slightly removed from the berserker state Mu'Anik had seen on minotaur faces a few moments earlier. "She lives." He said as he knelt down next to the small human, her chest rose and fell, and her bloodsoaked face was at peace.

'Shit.' Mu'Anik swore in his mind as he kept his face neutral.

"Well, it's dangerous, put it down so it doesn't kill you when it wakes up." Mu'Anik ordered bluntly.

There was a rumble among the impromptu honor guard that carried the limp frame back inside the walls, a rumble that disturbed the careful order that Mu'Anik had cultivated for twenty years of dealing with Devor raiders. The disturbance was manifested further by the bringing of battle axes to a guard position one after another.

Mu'Anik withdrew within. 'What the hell do I do now...?' He wondered as he closed his office door... and locked it for the first time since his occupation of Last Home began.

The bloodsoaked nightmare lay surrounded by the group of minotaurs who had fought alongside of her, while the rest of the minotaurs went over the battlefield and gathered up the corpses of friend and foe alike.

Mu'Bin frequently turned around and knelt before the body of the unconscious human, and looked for signs of life. Each time relief swept over him to see that yes, she did still live.

Each time he uttered, "She lives." He felt the relief in his breast, echoed by those around her who kept her at their backs.

He looked up at the sky every now and then, watching the sun travel the distance, drawn by Kiril's chariot across the sky. 'Kiril, lord of strength and battle, god of power and death, we give thanks this day that you have given us your angel, to ward our lives. Now she rests, and we do not know for how long, but we will guard her till she wakes.' He offered up his prayer to the sun, and listened to the conversations of his fellows who worked around the fortress of Last Home. More than one approached and asked after Kiril's Angel, each time he replied, "She lives, but sleeps."

Finally as the sun reached its apex, and Kiril's power was greatest, the bloody angel shot up to a seated position.

The honor guard spun on their hooves and knelt. Mu'Bin lowered his head and spoke first as her sky blue eyes stared around her in incomprehension.

"Angel of Kiril, your servants thank you for the blessings you have bestowed upon us. Thank you for coming, and for preserving our little lives for the day we could behold the spirit of war once again. The field of Last Home will be holy ground for ten thousand years..."

Neia raised her hand to stop him.

"Hold on... I'm not Kiril's Angel. My name is Neia Baraja, I am the General of the Sorcerer King's armies in the west." She said, and equal incomprehension met her in the brown eyes of the minotaur. "I've also been called 'The Scourge of God', 'Demon of the West', and... fuck it, those names don't mean anything to you, never mind." She said as she realized his uncomprehending expression had not changed. She pushed herself up to her knees and stood up the rest of the way.

She rubbed her bloody forehead and squeezed her eyes shut, "OK, look, I'm the war criminal on trial in Menowa. Does that help?" She asked.

She looked around, there wasn't a comprehending expression on a single one of their faces. "OK... look, I'm just... just call me by my name. Neia. I'm a servant of His Majesty, the Sorcerer King, the god of justice and strength."

"I just heard, "Kiril's Angel" again, but alright... Neia." Mu'Bin said from his kneeling position.

A memory tickled in her brain, "Wait... what was your name?" She asked him with interest.

"Mu'Bin." He said, trying to put boldness into his voice.

"Alright... Mu'Bin, I seem to recall hearing something about some other people being taken, explain." Neia ordered brusquely, her face still stained with dried blood, like much of the rest of her body, but framing blue and sparkling eyes.

"L-Lady Neia... our people are beset by Beastmen. They raid periodically, we warn the villages when they're sighted near the border, but they always manage to take a few. The aged, the stubborn, the pregnant, the very young, the sick or injured who can't run. When they don't take enough, they come and raid this fortress, we're like a larder... always replenished and used to augment their food supplies." Mu'Bin explained patiently.

"I see, so... how long till we chase the raiders down, or did your soldiers already go out?" Neia asked bluntly, and the upturned faces went down.

"We don't. They're going to... be eaten, or used as breeding stock to feed more of the beastmen of the Devor." Mu'Bin sighed, "As... as long as we don't counter attack over the border, they don't invade farther, they take no provinces, and limit themselves to raiding villages and towns that spring up close to their lands. No minotaur force has crossed the border of the Devor Empire armed in almost two hundred years.

"What?!" Neia roared in a reverberating voice, and the aura of her god crashed down in a rage. There wasn't one in the courtyard still on their hooves.

Her eyes turned to a whorling black as her mind flew back to the atrocities of the Slane Theocracy... but worse, as those were captives in an alien nation, but this...?

She took out her sword that someone had sheathed, the blood was still on it, and she got even more angry... the intended decency had revealed sloppiness.

Mu'Bin felt his bones quake with the force being brought down on him, and glowing red points in black greeted him as she placed a hand under his chin and brought his face up to look at her again.

"Have minotaurs become such sinners... to be so weak... you must be corrected... your sin... consumes your very souls..." She stabbed the tip of her sword into the earth at her feet and cradled his head at the jaw in both of her bloody hands.

"You cry out for redemption... your whole kingdom..." The anger was gone, but the pressure was not, there was only the abject tranquility of the voice of death whispering to him. "I will bring god's redemption to you."

"Someone... someone in this kingdom, sought to make me into a slave warrior, to use me to fight for you. What sinful weakness in the powerful, what sinful weakness in the commander here, what sinful weakness sweeps the land of the minotaurs... you must all... be corrected."

She released her hold and the pressure cut off, those frozen in place, found they could move again as Neia went and cleaned the blood off of her sword with a stray piece of cloth.

"Now, which way do they go to get home?" She asked as she sheathed her now clean sword. "Someone bring me my arrows, I'm going to need them."

Mu'Bin looked at her as if he were seeing an illusion, like he was caught in a dream, "I... I don't know, none of us here know the paths farther east."

Neia frowned. "Fine. I'll need a guide."

She activated a brief message spell and connected to Pandora's Actor. "I need something." She said bluntly to the treasury guardian.

"Name it, mein gutes Fräulein." He replied.

"Ask if there are any minotaurs in Kirakira prison who are from the east, and get Mu'Ka's permission to send one to me as a guide... armed. Please provide him with some... suitable equipment, not the trash this kingdom uses right now. Oh and... a scroll for undead horses, I'm in a hurry." Neia's messages were clipped and brief.

'Vat has happened mein Fräulein?' He asked her curiously.

'Sin. Terrible sin, and it must be corrected. I will tell you everything later, I swear it. But for now, I am pressed for time.' Neia answered.

Pandora's Actor clearly took her seriously, because a few minutes later, she found herself staring up at a familiar behemoth.

"Mu'Ulm!" She said and stuck out her bloody hand. He looked down at her and took the smooth bloody skin in his own.

"You've been busy." He said in a blunt sort of way.

"Well, being a slave warrior is messy." She grinned a predatory grin. "Glad to know he sent you, and..." She looked him up and down, "You look good."

He wore a black breastplate etched with white glowing runes, had a heavy round shield in his left hand, and a midsized white ax at his side.

"Marvelous equipment makes the minotaur, but how am I here and why am I here and where are we going?" He asked her, cutting straight to the point.

Mu'Bin watched this happen with open mouthed awe. From out of nowhere, a minotaur that towered over minotaurs had seemingly appeared, and spoke to her with deference while wearing equipment that was on par with the best of royal gear or better.

Tumult was ruling over the courtyard and a minotaur rushed over with a bundle of arrows that was shoved into Neia's quiver, which earned him a nod he would boast of for the rest of his life.

That tumult brought the gray furred minotaur Neia recognized as Mu'Anik back outside.

"What's going on?!" He shouted below.

"I'm going, that's what." Neia shouted back up.

"What?! You can't leave!" He jabbed his meaty finger down at her, "Someone stop her!"

Nobody moved. "Get out of my way, and keep that gate open." Neia uttered, as she brushed past to a small open space and as Mu'Ulm handed her the scrolls when she extended her hand. She quickly used them both, and from within the earth rose two large horses of bone and scraps of flesh.

"Where do you think you're going?!" Mu'Anik shrieked down at her in dismay.

"I'm going to kill them all, and save the lost sinners of your kingdom." Neia said calmly, "Then... after that, I'll be inquiring about whether it was made known that I was being sent here to be a slave warrior. And you can explain why you tried to have me killed." She added as she smoothly mounted the horse.

Mu'Ulm did the same, though with much less grace, "Now, show me how the Devor take their captives east, I want them to sleep in hell tonight." Neia spurred her mount toward the gate, followed hastily by Mu'Ulm who held onto the damn thing for dear life.

"Shut the gate! Shut the gate! Shut the gate!" Mu'Anik shouted from up above and gesticulated wildly, but the gate was not shut. They rode out and left the Fortress of Last Home, far, far behind.

"What the hell did I just see happen...?" Mu'Bin wondered in abject awe. His mouth agape and his eyes fixed on the backs of the pair that had wasted not a moment. The bloody monster, and the big one.

They left the fortress behind, silent but for the shouting of one frantic old fool. Neia rode easily, her legs clinging tightly to the side of the bones and tattered flesh of the unliving beast, and her hands holding tight to the scraps of a mane.

She glanced over her left shoulder to see Mu'Ulm more 'laying' than seated on the mount, and she threw back her head and laughed, the light of the sun striking the bloodsoaked cheeks of the Black Paladin, she teased him lightly, sitting up in the saddle and opening her arms as if to embrace the wind.

"What's the matter, Mu'Ulm?! Never moved this fast before?!" She shouted to him, and he struggled to even shake his head.

"N-No! Minotaurs can't ride anything... or couldn't!" he bellowed out over the beating hooves.

"We'll slow down soon enough, just tell me where to go and we'll ease off when we catch up." Neia said loudly enough to be heard over the din their mounts made.

They ate up ground like a brushfire ate dry grass in high summer.

Mu'Ulm was less than happy. He clung desperately to the dead beast, glad of the bones he had available to cling to, in life it must have been an enormous horse, but even then he was sure it couldn't have carried him. But now, as a dead, or rather 'undead' beast? He was easy to manage, and it was relentless, tireless, and moreover it terrified him to move with such unnatural speed.

He could only watch the ground race past under him and dread the moment he was going to tumble to the ground and get brained by the damn thing's hooves for his trouble.

The saving grace of it all... was a kind of slowly building thrill at the newness of it all, 'How fast these things move... it is... otherworldly. What could cavalry with such things do...?' A brief vision filled his mind, of hundreds, even thousands of his kind, armed and armored and riding on undead horses to confront the Devor... the horror on their arrogant faces... it made him want to weep with bloodthirsty joy.

He glanced up and looked at the back of the woman in front of him, she lay low atop the horse now, giving her even greater speed, he couldn't see her eyes, but he didn't need to. The relentlessness was in her every motion, she didn't look anyway else but forward. Blood soaked every inch of her, stray droplets fell behind, but mostly she was covered in the dried and encrusted substance.

'She killed Devor... she did and guided others in doing what we've dreamt of truly doing since the days of our grandfathers great grandfathers... and... oh by Kiril, that's what... she was serious, for fucks sake Mu'Ulm, how could you be so dense... she's going to attack the Devor on their own fucking ground...' Mu'Ulm's thoughts were whirling wildly.

'I'm out of prison... I'm on open ground again... I could ride away, with this gear on my body I could become a bandit god... I could lead her out there and abandon her, let her get eaten by the Devor, hide in the hills for awhile till nobody is looking for me... then emerge and make my mark... with this marvelous stuff I could maybe carve out my own little state and fight my way to a noble title bestowed by the Ard Rhi to buy me off...' Old ambitions stirred, old thoughts came unbidden to his mind.

Neia's back was vulnerable. 'Could I do it, get beside her... bring my weapon up, and down on her unprotected head or neck? That old bastard might even reward me.' He swallowed hard as the ravenous and rapacious obsessions of his former life beyond the walls of Kirakira prison beckoned him back the way he'd come.

His hand reached to his side, over his waist where the white ax waited, if she knew what he was doing, she gave no sign, he began to move his undead horse closer, slowly catching up with her as he spurred it forward.

'I will make you truly great...' He remembered what she'd said. 'The Minotaur Kingdom will be restored...'

He thought of the teachers she'd brought to him, the time, training, equipment, the change she effected in just days... and the respect she'd shown to him when he'd fallen at her feet. Too, he thought of what it felt like to receive such impossibilities, and remembered a saying from his youth, 'The Pride of Kiril, bearer of the sun, are the honest scales, the blunt of tongue, and the bold of deed. The shame of kiril are these, the coward and the glutton, the weak tongued, but most of all does he loath the oathbreaker.'

He bit his tongue and glared ahead angrily and moved his hand away from his weapon and went to grab the neck of the horse for a better grip. Crushing the self hatred that rose with the temptation, as surely as he crushed the temptation itself, and forged it into purpose to make up for what he had nearly done, and would never speak of.

"This way!" He shouted as they approached a great hill. "Up this, then stop!" He shouted, and they dashed madly up the grassy hill, when they crested the top, he stopped and looked around.

"By Kiril... I had forgotten..." Mu'Ulm said softly as he managed to sit up on the stock still horse.

"Forgotten what?" Neia asked with some concern as she turned and looked up into the eyes of the behemoth of a minotaur.

"How... how beautiful it all is, my country, the open land, the hills, the rivers and trees, my homeland, open in what feels like an endless expanse... to chase the horizon and never catch it and there be ever more. Over two hundred years ago, my country took a month to walk across for a full grown minotaur. Or so the stories say. Then..." He pointed to the east where a great wide road cut through a thick forest, "They started taking everything, now that forest is the border, allowed to grow mostly to mock us and our history of taming the wilds."

"When I was a young bull, I used to sneak over to show how brave I was, my friends and I made a game of it, to show our courage we'd creep over the border and whoever gave into their fear last, was crowned 'King of the Everwood.' Children's games..." He snorted bitterly.

"We had the bad luck to play that game the day a Devor raiding party showed up, all my friends were caught, I survived by hiding, by now... they're either breeding stock or dead and shat out in a hole somewhere. That was seventeen years ago, I think." Mu'Ulm said solemnly.

"I am glad to go again over the border... and this time I will survive by other means." He said in a cold, seething rage.

He looked down at the bloodstained monster of a human beside him, who sat silent and resolved as she took in the view, her eyes hard and calculating.

"Never thought I'd come this way with a human." He said thoughtfully.

"How about coming this way with a friend?" She asked through blood stained lips.

"Never imagined that either but... I'm open to trying new things." He said with a rough, huffing laugh that brought a fierce, broad grin to her face.

"Let me tell you one piece of wisdom that I have always followed. Decide what to do with it for yourself." She said calmly, "Then we go do this."

"If it is about weakness being a sin..." He began, only to stop when she laid her red hand on his brown fur at the forearm.

"No." She said evenly, "A saying I learned in my god's home. 'Greater love hath no man than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.' We shed sweat together in prison, we wore the same chains, we had the same cells no different than one another, and were bound by the same walls, but now we are going to shed blood together. To take a life... I have often treated it as a trivial thing, but I know better. It is a heavy thing, and not to be done without reason. To do so with another of one mind, forges bonds among my people that are not lightly broken. A great man once destroyed himself, to save a comrade who had gone beyond reason. He drew her away from well deserved death, and in return she destroyed his life, and many others also. I never forgave her for that. What begins here... will echo through the ages of your kingdom, far more than even my little skirmish back at the fortress. Do not make me regret my faith in you... and I will be proud to call you brother."

Mu'Ulm listened patiently, but offered no answer except to draw his blade, "My people also have a saying, 'Don't fuck with an ass you can't kick.' He winked down at her, and then nodded in the direction they needed to travel.

As her serious, even grave, face, gave way to a humorous and savage smile, he pointed ahead to the road in the distance. "We ride like we have been for that, and turn down that road, we'll catch up to them soon, I've heard stories of desperate minotaurs chasing after them to take back a wife, a husband, a child or a parent, most never come back, but those few who did, before they ended their lives in despair, talked of a place that had been a well used encampment. A fortification, nothing fantastic, mainly meant to keep captives 'in' not opponents 'out'. They after all, don't ever expect to be attacked."

Neia laughed, "We'll teach them the error of their ways then." Neia said, and spurred her horse forward.

"Yes, yes we will." Mu'Ulm added as he did his damndest to imitate her motion and again clinging on for dear life as they tore up clods of dirt and grass as they raced toward the road Mu'Ulm pointed out.


	28. Highway of Tears

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 28: Highway of Tears

_...Menowa..._

Nua was overjoyed, the workers she'd hired were every bit as good as Mu'Sula had promised, in two days time, they'd torn down the entire set of buildings and laid the full foundations for the replacements.

On the evening of the second day, Nua was moved by an impulse she couldn't resist. "I'm buying tonight's meal for you all, just stay here when you're done, and I'll make sure I stuff you like a turkey."

"What's a turkey?" A minotaur asked.

"Big bird, you kill it, shove things up its ass after you gut it, cook it, eat it, and relax." Nua said bluntly, "Popular food in hell." Her words were clipped and blunt, which they seemed to favor, but she drew some funny looks when she remarked on it being popular in hell.

She waved away the questions before they began to come at her, "I'll explain later, besides, the story has a happy ending, and that always makes a meal better."

They accepted this and returned to work, while she herself went out and left them to the task. Finding food proved harder than she expected. It was one thing to buy for one's self, it was another to buy for a large group. "Sorry, I only get small shipments in, if I sell it all to you, I won't have any to sell to my other customers tomorrow, and then they'll stop coming after that. I won't destroy my business for one sale." The answer came from more than one merchant, until she had a moment of inspiration that made her slap her forehead and her eyes go wide.

She entered the next shop, the shelves were all but bare of food, the bins where grains of various types were held, were almost entirely empty, not completely, but they were low. Her observation of the street showed that there weren't that many buyers out and about, so what she saw reflected very small shipments. She tilted her head back and looked up at a minotaur who had clearly seen better days.

She was crisscrossed with scars and walked with a limp, though she had thick muscles, she moved sluggishly as if she'd been ill and not fully recovered, her eyes were listless, and her small horns that marked her as much a female as her breasts, seemed dulled and had chipped in a number of places. In spite of her evident 'decline' she responded when Nua approached.

"I've seen you. You're the elf doing all the construction across the square near the pavilion." The minotaur woman said in a banal tone that told Nua she didn't really care.

"Yes... I want to buy some food for my laborers. They've worked hard and I want to provide them with a little... bonus." Nua said as she looked around, the wooden planks and beams within the small shop had seen better days, there wasn't much to it that wouldn't be blown away in a stiff breeze. The others hadn't been much better off.

The merchant woman snorted and huffed, "I can't sell to that many..." She began and Nua raised her hands up and down to get the woman to stop.

"No, no, I don't want you to drain your stock. Just let me buy for three. Two for workers, and one for yourself, you're invited as well." She said hastily.

That had the minotaur woman's attention. "You're going to pay me to eat my own stock?"

"That's right, for this evening at least, and I'll tell you what, if you'll carry that offer to all the others who sell food around here, and have it brought over along with the things necessary for cooking... I'll throw in an extra copper for every one of your merchant friends you get to attend, in addition to paying you all for your stock." Nua said, and reaching into her pouch, she withdrew ten silvers. "Use this as you need, and keep the change, I'm no merchant, I'll have to trust you to get a good deal."

The dull and listless eyes locked on the coins like they were water in a desert and she was dying of thirst. "It will be done."

Nua smiled as warmly as she could, "I know." She said, and she was not being generous, she had well learned to watch the eyes for that sense of the opportunist snatching at a chance.

So she was unsurprised when an hour later, there were a dozen minotaurs headed over the nearly empty square, bearing large packs on their backs, carrying pots, and so on.

They didn't need to be told to use the broken and torn up wood to improvise a preparation spot, and as if they'd done it before, they established an impromptu cooking and eating area while the workers wrapped up for the day.

As if the timing were ordained by the unliving god, the workers wrapped up only minutes before the first helpings were prepared. Huge pots were being stirred and bread was being laid out, the sweet savory scent of meat carried over the workers as they set their tools down, and began to line up. At first there was jostling, and for a moment it seemed a fight might break out, but Nua saw the potential breakdown of order and snapped out...

"None of that!" She clapped her hands together authoritatively, "The will of god is that all stand equal in the mess, all will get an equal portion! All will eat, but the line is first come and first serve."

A minotaur approached her with a bowl of stew and held it out to her... her stomach rumbled loudly, but her eyes turned a shade of gold as she looked down from the box on which she was standing and shook her head decisively. "No." She said powerfully and pointed to the line. "Give it to the next one in line. I go last, not first."

Setting the example, she was met with rumblings of respect, and she watched as her workforce slowly inched forward.

Silence dominated, and Nua saw the opportunity in front of her, "How about a story to pass the time?" She proposed, "Every meal is made better with a good story to go with it!" Her face fairly glowed with excitement, ears twitched and turned toward her at the promise of a story.

"Let me tell you about the time hell itself caught fire and burned down... a story of what happens when nightmare meets nightmare, and births a demon so filled with rage that hell itself was turned to a ruin. Our story begins in a place called 'Wenmark...'

So Nua spoke, telling the story as she had heard of it, one of courage, conviction, desperation, longing, hope, love, and final vengeance brought by the skeletal hand of the unliving god whose will forged a weapon out of a human soul. 'All those classes on storytelling really did pay off.' She thought to herself as she paused to drink water, the line snaked forward without disruption or a word as the story was told from first arrival, to the final end of the nightmare and the terrible dawn that came from it.

Not an ear turned away, and through it all, Nua made references to the faith, to the generous will of the divine whose sense of responsibility for his subjects made him the greatest of all kings, the greatest of all gods. She put all she had into the story, and by the time it was done, she felt very tired, but satisfied. 'Ahhh, a good story is like good sex, leaves you happy and satisfied, but always wanting more.' She let herself laugh within her heart, and briefly thought of the happier times with Aalon, and wondered how he was.

"Another!" Someone called out. Nua sat on the box she'd been standing on and held up her bread and wagged it at the speaker.

"At least let me take a bite of bread before I get started." Nua said with a roll of her eyes.

A few minutes later, she was obliging, but interspersed throughout the story of the Grand Matriarch's deception that let her easily destroy the Theocracy's greatest host, she answered questions about the faith that had brought so many different races together, and she also spoke of her purpose.

"We are Kiril's people, why do we need another god?" One of them asked her bluntly.

"Well, he's not doing all that well by you, is he?" Nua asked pointedly, "It seems to me that if a god is good for anything, it ought to be doing something, or at least helping solve a problem, but from what I learned before I got here, your kingdom used to be more than twice as big as it was. And worse, the ones who took that land over the last two hundred years, regularly come over the border to kill and eat your people. Seems to me that Kiril is being negligent. Why work for a god that doesn't work for his people?" She asked, a hint of bitterness in her voice as she recalled the uselessness of the elven religion's beliefs, a religion she barely remembered any longer.

She went on, "I follow a god that breaks chains, that raises armies, that creates change, he is a river to his people, and I am but a tributary to his greatness, and bearing it to you. Look at the coins you now carry, whose face is on it? Look at your bowls, the money that put food in there was given to me directly by my god, who made right over a century of wrong in a single gesture. Now his largesse is carried to you also. The service I render to god, I render through my service to you and all around me. In turn, the great undead King renders service to his followers, granting them justice, strength, knowledge, arms of impossible power, and raises armies the likes of which the world has never seen, to utterly destroy those who would destroy his people. That is the god I serve. When was the last time Kiril did anything?"

She took one last bite of bread after wiping it around the bowl on her lap, and silence ruled for a few minutes before a merchant said, "I'd actually like to know more."

If anyone disagreed, well they chose not to leave, the only movement was when somebody would rise to refill their bowl with stew or grab more bread, and they seated themselves again to listen as Nua took out the book compiled by the demon of the west.

_...East of Last Home..._

They ran over ground like wind over water, unimpeded as they rushed ever closer, they paused at a few locations for Mu'Ulm to get his bearings, and for him to take a moment to remember things and places long shoved down into the recesses of his memory, and the sun continued to creep across the sky.

Without the need to rest their horses however, the going was swift, what should have taken days, took only hours, and eventually Neia found herself standing on a great, wide road. Hardly a marvel of engineering, to her critical General's eye, it was in fact, crude. Only a little higher than the ground around it, it was nothing but hard packed earth. "Alright, a quick break, then we move on." Neia said as she stopped her horse.

"Welcome," Mu'Ulm said gravely, "to the Highway of Tears." He got down off his horse with some effort, and reached down and touched the earth with reverence, crouching there and turning his head toward the forest just beyond the open ground on which they stood.

"As I said, once we cross into those trees, we enter Devor territory. The place where foolish little bulls played foolish little games, until finally the Devor ended up winning the game permanently. He slowly stood up, lost in thought, Neia was not sure he even spoke to her, or simply spoke. "I won't say that nobody ever comes back but… nobody comes back the same.

Neia's face was, to his eyes, seemingly suddenly incredibly soft, gentle even, her knuckles turned white as she held the horse.

"Why do they call this the Highway of Tears?" She asked with a sinking feeling as she recalled his story.

"Because... it has become a custom for those who lost loved ones to the Devor, to come to this road and walk up and down to mourn and bewail the loss for seven days. Most no longer have the courage to cross over the border, either because they fear for themselves, or the retribution of the Devor that might fall on everyone else. So... they walk, they wail, they cry out to Kiril to send his angel to choose one worthy of elevation, to restore our people."

"You...?" Neia asked as he looked away, into the deep wood.

He nodded, "The earliest, I have a vague memory of sitting atop my father's shoulders, lowing and crying to the forest... a face, only vague in my mind now, someone I liked, maybe loved in the way little ones do. A feeling of sadness I didn't understand, someone taken away... doesn't matter now. Whoever they were, they're long dead if they're lucky. I visited here several more times, until there was nobody left worth mourning. I came here for my friends, and by now... I doubt there is anyone of the old place left, though I know the village is still there."

He bent down and picked up a stray rock and threw it into the woods, the stone embedded itself deep into the trunk of a tree. The trunk shook and a few leaves fluttered down. Neia took out her water skin and drank deeply from it, then tossed it to Mu'Ulm, he caught it easily and drank what was left, and threw it back to her, empty.

"Thanks." He said bluntly.

She nodded and put it away.

"Funny, I was half expecting words of comfort or something," the minotaur added.

Neia shook her head, "I'm not all that great at that stuff. My wife is, my friends are, but what can I tell you? I'm no good at that. I walked away from the ruins of a life myself, and built a new one atop the bones of my enemies. I know more about revenge than forgiveness. The only comfort I can give you in this is... I'm going to kill them all. Every one of the raiders who crossed the border today."

"That will do as a beginning." Mu'Ulm said gruffly.

Neia looked out into the woods as Mu'Ulm went back to his horse and clumsily got on. "How far down that road till we get to the fort?"

"A day or two by normal means, but we'll be there before sunset on these things." He patted the neck of the undead horse with considerable appreciation.

"Then... alright, if you want to go... you can go." Neia said hesitantly.

"Excuse me?" Mu'Ulm asked, his head and body snapping erect, affronted.

"I said... you can go. Listen, I don't know how many there are out there, or what they can do. You took risks enough just bringing me here." Neia turned her blood crusted face to him and said bluntly, "I don't have the right to ask you to risk your life any further."

"I told you... I am your minotaur." Mu'Ulm said bluntly and crossed his tree trunk like arms over his chest, "Talk like that again, and I'll kick you off that Kiril-damned monster you're riding."

Neia looked at him and cracked a weary smile. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to insult you. But... Tens of thousands have died following my orders, I didn't want to throw someone else's life away if I didn't have to."

Mu'Ulm's eyes went half shut as he glared at her. "I have never in my life, run from a fight. Least of all when there is a good chance for victory, and even less than that when outfitted in equipment that would make Kiril himself shiver with envy."

"Wow, less than 'least', that's very little indeed." Neia said snarkily, and he glared at her.

"You'd know much about 'little'." He said as he towered over her.

Neia groaned, "I swear, if I hear one more joke about my height, I'm moving in with the fucking dwarves."

"And I will buy them all step ladders." Mu'Ulm responded with a twinkle in his eye as the mood turned and Neia broke out in a laugh.

"Fair enough, there can't be that many of them, a hundred or two, and the two of us, armed with the element of surprise... I'd say they're outnumbered." Neia said boldly, "Alright, that's enough of a break, let's get going." She spurred her horse on and Mu'Ulm clung for dear life to the undead horse again.

Neia seemed to be keeping her eyes straight ahead, but in reality she was scanning the way left and right. The trees were impressive, far from being like the tall trees of her home, these were very wide, with long thick branches that spread into one another, creating a large canopy of thick green leaves beyond the road on either side. It was easy to picture small children playing within, but... not much else was going to get through there.

Finally the road curved, and she heard the reason why, a creek ran beside it. She slowed down and took out her waterskin, then dismounted. "Keep watch." Neia said calmly as she slid down the small embankment and dunked the mouth of the waterskin into the water, it was crystal clear, fresh, and cool. When her skin was filled, she drank, then refilled it, and drank again, then refilled it, and turned about to toss it to Mu'Ulm. He threw it back, she refilled it in silence again as he kept an eye out, scanning around them, until at last he was done drinking and she topped it off one more time before she got back up onto the road.

"Wait..." She hesitated as she looked more closely at the trees.

"What?" Mu'Ulm asked and clenched his jaw tight as if expecting a warning.

"The trees... they're all... connected?" Neia asked as she saw that the branches were indeed, not just touching, they were fused as if they'd grown together.

"Yeah, this is the Evertree. This whole forest is one piece, Kiril knows where it began, but it's been growing like this for longer than my race has had a kingdom. That's why we call it the 'Evertree'. Deep within there somewhere, there's ruins of an elf kingdom that went extinct centuries ago. Nobody knows how, some calamity. I've never seen them, but my grandfather's great grandfather heard stories about playing among the ruins from his own grandfather. Some say they made the tree like this, to hide what was left of them after some disaster nearly destroyed everything. Take that for what it's worth." Mu'Ulm shrugged it off passively.

"That will be a sight to see." Neia remarked in return.

"None but the Devor have been here for over two hundred years." Mu'Ulm said to her.

As she spurred her horse forward slowly, she looked at him with dark eyes, and said again in a voice not her own, "It will be a sight to see."

Her fist went up and grabbed the pendant that hung from her neck and squeezed it as tightly as she shut her eyes. "Gah... fuck that hurts..."

Mu'Ulm spurred his horse closer to her, "Are you alright?" He asked sincerely.

"Just... no, yes." She said, and then explained the cause of her absence, and the purpose of the pendant she now wore.

"It... it seems to keep the worst at bay, fuck knows what might have happened to me after the battle without this little charm, but while it stops the worst... the smaller moments are like small fish that can get through a large net." She blinked away tears from her eyes until the pain was gone.

"Kiril's Angel was said to have the power of prophecy... if this becomes widely known among my people..." Mu'Ulm said as he stared at her with a reverential awe that she hadn't known he was capable of.

Neia slapped one hand over her chest, "I'm not 'Kiril's Angel', I am just 'Neia' just 'me'. Nothing more, nothing less."

Mu'Ulm rode beside her in silence for a time, "You're kind of stupid, you know that?" He said finally.

"Do you want to be the one to get kicked off the horse?" She asked only half in seriousness.

"You made 'me' kneel and surrender. You broke the way our prison worked in days, I don't know all the details of what happened before you came here, but Raymond stayed with us for a few days, I got to know him a bit, he told me about some of what happened. From where I'm sitting, sure you lost control but..." he shrugged it off, "If you want a clean war, play a board game. Anything else, a lot of people die. That's just how it is, you fought a dirty war, dirtier. Probably kept a lot of your own people alive. Seems to me, you don't think much of the value of their lives if you're that worried about 'how' you kept them alive. So... yeah, you're kind of stupid, aren't you?"

Neia didn't answer immediately, but when she did, it was with a gentle, "Yeah, I guess I am... but still... some things, you don't get to just walk away from, whether it is necessary, accidental, or intended."

Mu'Ulm gave his usual dismissive shrug and looked up at the sky to track the sun. "We should be coming out of the woods soon, the fort is close by there."

"Good." Neia replied coldly as her mind set itself to the task.

"The plan?" He asked.

"We kill them all and take your people home." Neia said as if 'he' were the idiot.

"OK, how?" Mu'Ulm asked dryly.

Neia held up her sword and pointed to it with a deadpan expression. "See the sharp parts on our weapons? We hit them with those until they stop moving."

"I can do that." Mu'Ulm said and drew the white ax at his side, he felt the power surge through him, and his eyes turned red as long restrained wrath began to build, for the ones who destroyed his life.


	29. Big Fucking Trigger Warning

**BIG FUCKING TRIGGER WARNING**

OK, LOOK... I wrote 25,000 words the other day because I wanted to get the **CRESCENT LAKE** arc over with, it isn't that it's bad... I don't think. But this is going to be a tough subject matter for some people to read about being handled as best I can manage it. I did my research first of course, tried to handle it respectfully and make the story compelling. If you are a sensitive soul or have suffered some form of abuse which makes it hard to hear about it or read scenes that pertain to the lives of victims... SKIP the crescent lake arc going forward. I had a hard time writing it, but, I think I'm glad I did. Any errors or flaws or defects in the representation therein... is my responsibility and I apologize. This was not written for shock, this was not written to be 'edgy' this was meant to show a more accurate reflection of the mindset of someone victimized by an abuser. I handled it as sensitively as I could, and wrote based on the best information I had available.

I don't normally do trigger warnings, but given the nature of this, I think it appropriate to make an exception just this once.


	30. Demons

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 29: Demons

_...Crescent Lake..._

Bertra didn't lock the door to her shop even though it was closed. Instead she went about preparing tea. A smile on her face as she hummed pleasantly, her slender frame swept over the floor on graceful feet, her dress the color of sunlight with green accents, she was like sunlight shining through the leaves of the great trees above.

She laid out some sweet lemon infused biscuits, and turned a tiny frown down at them, 'Not as good as Nazarick.' She thought, and put aside the thought, nothing was, after all, and if he'd never been, well he didn't know what he was missing. Her tiny frown, with little corners of her lips turned down, reversed themselves, as she reminded herself, 'But I made them myself.' It was a point of pride, as a former scripture, she remembered fieldcraft, but never mastered true cooking.

When she'd finished laying everything out, she wiped her brow in a mockery of exertion and put her hands on her hips with her feet shoulder width apart and looked down at her handiwork. A perfectly set table for two a few feet away from the table where they'd be working on more of Lovien's manuscript.

She looked over her shoulder, the table there had inkwell, ink, a set of quills, red ink for her to mark corrections to his work, and... a bottle of unopened wine.

She briefly wheeled about and picked up the manuscript, it had improved... considerably, she brushed back her golden hair and flipped through the pages, his work was far better than she thought it would be based on his early statements. Now... days later, he scribbled over the pages like a man possessed, slapping them down one after another, requiring less and less input, and earning more and more praise as she played her little part and used the enchanted red ink to modify a few things here or there on the pages.

She never knew what impulse made her do it, when she had clearly reached unused pages... but for a reason unknown to her, she took the last page from the bottom of the stack, and found something written there. "Dedicated to those I lost, but also to the one who made it possible to find their memories, and make them live again. My golden angel in the bookshop."

She blinked... reread it, blinked again, and reread it. She was at once deeply moved, and deeply disturbed, and deeply hopeful. 'Can I... even really think of it? Do I dare? What do I tell him? Am I reading too much into this, after all, he doesn't express anything 'loving'. I'm overthinking things, he's just a friend.' She vowed then to put it from mind, replaced the page, and set it down just as she heard the door jingle at the entrance to her shop.

"Hello!" The familiar masculine voice said, and Lovien breezed through and walked toward the back.

"Back here!" Bertra said and stepped into view in the doorway, the lights were bright, and the tan wood reflected it easily, giving it all a golden hue. She drew back the chair from behind it, and gestured to the spot for himself. "Be seated, and let's get to work. Remember, complete a chapter with fewer than six mistakes, and I'll crack open that bottle after we've had tea."

He grinned brightly, "I'll earn that bottle before I'm done, and if I don't, maybe I'll come back to write another book."

"I'd like that, but... I'd like to have at that wine too." She said and waved her right hand toward the bottle as she rested her head on the palm of her left hand, "keeping a pretty girl from a drink is probably a crime under Queen Zesshi's rule... just pointing that out now."

Lovien laughed, "Well, better get it right then," he said and bit his lip as he wrote, staring intensely at the page, as if daring the ink to make or the paper to keep, a single mistake.

Page after page was slid over to her, until he'd finished three whole chapters, each one she despaired of him meeting the minimum, until the third of the evening, an oddly positive chapter, a rare moment in his life when he'd been happy. She marked five mistakes, fixing them quickly, and then without a word, she reached over to the bottle, and slid it over to him.

"Congratulations, you did it. Tonight, we can drink." Bertra said pleasantly.

"It's been a long time since I've had anything but... sure, I nipped the occasional taste when I was... North." Lovien remarked with a mischievous grin that made his face light up like a young boy who had managed to snag a pie off the window sill.

"Well..." Bertra looked over at the tea and the lemon biscuits and her mouth turned up with a moment's thought before it relaxed again. "No, you're right, we can have tea later and we have it every day, why put this off?" She asked pleasantly.

She reached for a pair of cups, and set one down in front of each of them, then popped the cork and let it fall carelessly to the floor and strike her foot before it rolled away. She poured the rich, dark liquid into the two cups, and then raised it up. "To all wonderful creations to come, whether they tell stories that immortalize the lost, or inspire hope for the future, or both."

"I'll drink to that." He said pleasantly and touched his cup to hers, then brought it to his lips, and she did the same with her own, and they drank happily.

They were still drinking happily, when they'd finished off the third bottle, and getting quite drunk. Bertra was laughing, even giggling, enjoying the youth this elven body had restored to her, when she leaned in to say... something, and suddenly her eyes flew open as she felt Lovien's lips press to hers.

His lips felt warm, enticing, inviting. For a moment, she allowed herself to savor attention that she hadn't had in years, to let his hands wander as he drew her closer, her breathing quickened and her heart beat faster, and she felt his own do the same. She felt his desire rising, and her own with it... but yet...

'Can I do this? Should I? I'm still... I'm one of the ones who had a hand in all the harm his people suffered... how would I feel if I knew I was with someone like that? No... I shouldn't, I need time to process this." She managed to think more clearly, though she felt her limbs struggle to respond through the alcohol induced haze.

'No, I need to stop this.' Bertra thought urgently, and when the kiss broke from her lips and she felt his mouth go to her sensitive ear, and the shiver of sudden pleasure ran through her as he touched a place so intimate, and his tongue trace down her neck, she struggled, and succeeded, to get out the words.

"Lovien... no. We need to stop... I can't... I..." She began, only to feel his body press harder to her.

"It's fine... you want this as much as I do... I can feel it..." He whispered roughly, and his hand came to her breast.

'If I weren't drunk... this would be easy, I'm a scripture damn it... how can this be happening to me...?!' Bertra felt his hand on the small of her back, slide over her ass and grip.

"Lovien... no! I can't... please!" She urged as she tried to push him away as he frantically drew her closer. She caught sight of his damaged ear, and a surge of guilt rushed over her as he pressed her further back toward the wall when he took her briefly paused resistance to be consent.

_...Menowa..._

On the third day of construction, there were even more workers, and even more skilled craftsmen. The shopkeepers who sold food, had independently decided to start bringing their food out to the area to sell, so Nua offered an extra copper to the laborers who ate on site. The work was proceeding rapidly, with the temple beginning to take shape, and during meals, Nua preached the will of her lord. She told stories of the butcher and the merciful, she told stories of the nightmare who was on trial not twenty yards from where they worked, and she spoke... of course... of Raymond.

"He shed blood for me, he threw his life, his power, his everything away, not only for me, but for all my people, because he thought it was right! What is wealth, what is power, what is justice..." She stopped in midsentence when she saw a hand shoot up.

"Yes?" She asked in annoyance from atop her box.

"That the same Raymond who is testifying today?" The shopkeeper asked.

Nua felt her eyes bug out of her head. "It... excuse me!" She said, and jumped off the box and ran for the pavilion as fast as her legs could move.

The crude and often broken stones vanished rapidly behind her, and she ran so hard that she skidded to a stop and slammed shoulder first into the entryway, and looked out over the audience. Numerous horns great and small filled her vision, but far down below, she managed to pick out two familiar figures at opposite tables. 'So it's true... some really did turn on her.' She felt a flash of pity for the Demon of the West, but that vanished in an instant when all thought focused on one man.

He was thinner, weaker looking than before, but dressed in his best, with a neatly trimmed beard, and he spoke with the same iron conviction that made anyone who was near him, stand up and listen.

Her hands flew to her mouth as it fell open and she shook her head in awe. 'It's you... it's really you... oh by god, you really are alive!' She felt her breath quicken, her heart pound, her entire body tingled and come alive in a way she hadn't felt since the day she left him behind and walked out of Kami Miyako.

She leaned hard against the stone, unable to truly stand as the scene played over in her mind, parting ways with Enlaith and Misu, walking alone on the long great road, the people she'd met, the things she'd done... she almost walked away.

'It's enough. Enough to know he's alive for now, I can come to him alone later, seek a private audience...' She stopped herself in midthought.

'No... that's something the old Nua would have done, afraid to be seen, afraid to be heard... I'm not that now, let him hear me.' She said, and straightened up, he hadn't seen her, he was looking up at the adjudicator.

She took a deep breath, held her hands up to her mouth so that it was open and would echo louder, and she leaned forward part way, then shouted in a voice to tell the heavens themselves she was there. "Raymond! Raymond Zarg Larrenson!" She yelled as loud as she could, heads started to turn, she didn't give a damn. "I told you! I told you! You did it Raymond! I'm free! I'm free and I made it out! And I told you I'd find you again!" Quizzical looks met her from thousands of faces... from all over the empire.

Raymond turned away from where he looked from the podium, and his mouth parted for words that he couldn't say yet.

Not until she started to run.

Nua bounded down the stairs like a deer through high grass, and as she did so, Raymond stepped away from the podium, snapped his arms out as far as the chains on his wrists allowed them to go, and rushed over the stone beneath, meeting her at the base where stairs met stage.

She flung herself forward and embraced him. "I told you! I told you I'd find you again one day you big dummy." Nua felt happy tears run down her cheeks as she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him against her.

"Nua... Nua, I can barely... I don't even know what to say... I hoped but, well I never thought I'd see you again." He said with a cracked and broken voice. "I heard you were alive, that you'd been doing well for yourself, but I had no idea you were here of all places!"

"Ahem..." Demiurge stood up and looked over at the pair, "I'm sure there is some touching story shared between the Cardinal and the freed slave... but I believe we have testimony to hear?"

That brought them both back to reality, and Nua stepped away from him, back to where the steps were, and stood patiently watching. Not seating herself, not moving, only watching as he allowed a minotaur guard to escort him back to the podium.

"Apologies for the... interruption." Raymond said, "As I was saying, the problem as we saw it was that we needed more strong humans, so it was proposed that in our alliance with the Elf King we allow him..."

_...Devor Empire..._

Caxacta walked the fort as evening set in. The sun was slowly descending across the sky, and the 'spare' had been selected, and when the sun went down, it would be time for the ritual. He looked over into the forest. Not a sound to speak of that shouldn't be there. Cut thirty feet back, the damn tree held no predators that could take him. The enormous bearman yawned as boredom began to follow the passage of tedious minutes.

The stakes of the fort were twice as tall as the tallest minotaur, and within, the captives were all chained to stakes that were deeply embedded into the ground and enchanted for good measure. From within, there was still the music of weeping and wailing. Minotaur captives called for their loved ones or tried to quiet their crying children. He snorted. "Stupid cows." he muttered. He felt a slight rumble to his stomach at a particular wail.

The gate opened nearby, a large tigerman emerged, "Good haul, not a great hall, but a good haul." The tigerman said.

"Yeah..." Caxacta remarked, but you know, "Motecu... the ones who were supposed to go to the fortress haven't come back yet, what do you think is taking them so long?"

The tigerman scratched his face as he thought it over. "Don't know, maybe they ran into some real resistance and all got killed?"

The thought hung in the air, and then neither could hold the straight face and they started laughing. "Very funny, very funny Motecu. Alright, your shift, keep an eye on those 'dangerous trees' they look ready to attack." Caxacta replied with a wink as he went inside and the gate closed behind him, leaving the Tigerman alone to look for escapees that couldn't exist.

Darkness began to cover the land, and as it did, he watched the lionwoman, Captain Tlamix, approach the area where the minotaurs sat, chained and lowing like the cattle they were.

"It's time. Get over here." She said in the rough growl that lionmen all had. She unchained a minotaur woman, who stood from the group with slow resignation.

"You'll keep your word? Mu'Trieu will live?" The minotaur asked.

"She will not be eaten, this I promise, that is the value of the sacrifice." She said calmly.

A young minotaur child was wailing relentlessly as her mother pushed her gently into the arms of another, "No! No! Mama! Mama!" She struggled and kicked in the arms of another female.

"Look after Mu'Trieu... someone..." The now unchained minotaur woman said, and stepped away, the child was the only one of them still making noise as they were frozen in uncertainty.

A few feet away, there was a large stone table, and the minotaur woman followed the lioness captain over to it, she did not resist as the scant clothing she had was torn away, and she obeyed when the lioness pointed to it.

With glistening eyes, the cattle lay passively on the table, and looked up at the stars that were just coming out, as if they were an audience come to watch her.

Captain Tlamix stood over her as the various types of beastmen gathered around, not far away, Mu'Trieu was still crying out, but through the crowd, neither could mother see daughter, nor daughter see mother.

Rumbling and growling in various tones went up. "Oh father sun and mother moon! We feast as you feast, eat as you eat, and live as you will it! To give you strength to rise again, we give blood to your bride, that she may feed you. As you feast on the blood of our sacrifice, we will feast on her flesh, so that we too, may rise strong again with you. Accept this willing offering of blood, and know that we are faithful and strong!"

"Faithful and strong!" The crowd of beastman warriors echoed.

The lionman looked down at the unrestrained, naked minotaur woman who just kept staring blankly up at the sky. She didn't shift at all until Captain Tlamix loomed over her face.

"This is minotaur courage. Get a good look... because one day, someone like me will come to kill you all." The minotaur sacrifice said, and took a deep breath.

'Yeah... that'll be the day. What could possibly challenge the three?' Tlamix wondered with a humorous dismissal, and then she brought her claw down at the center of the woman's chest, and sliced it straight down. The passive minotaur let out a cry of pain as her flesh tore, and Captain Tlamix swiftly reached in, wrenched open the ribcage, and tore out her beating heart as she thrashed on the altar.

A few feet away, the child minotaur was screaming in horror at the sound of her mother's dying agony, and the rest were transfixed, mute with horror as they saw the heartbeat its last in the hand that held it aloft.

It turned to ash and was horrifically gone, blown away in the wind as the captain used her magic. Then and only then did the captive minotaurs bemoan their fates ever more loudly.

"Now... drain the blood, and eat the rest!" Tlamix shouted brusquely.

The younger ones went in first, bearing the clay jars they'd need to catch the blood, while the older ones cut where they knew they needed to. Others made space between themselves and the minotaurs, to ensure the prisoners could see what was happening.

Their terror would keep them quiet. Caxacta relaxed as he saw their spirits start to break. 'Four raids now, and not once have I seen the cattle's spirits rise after they got to witness this. Stupid cattle, you'd think one would have the will to fight back.'

Caxacta shook his head dismissively, and when the jars were carried away, the carving up of the meat began, pieces of flesh were handed off, passed around, until everyone had gotten something. More than a few went over to where the minotaur captives were crouched on the ground, and ate in front of them, just to further exacerbate the terror they were instilling.

Some had gone completely catatonic. When it was done, all that lay on the altar were bloody bones, which the one Caxacta recognized as 'Mu'Trieu' stared at blankly with enormous unblinking eyes.

The skull detached from the spine, and fell with a thud to the ground, before tilting over and facing where her daughter sat, with empty eye sockets staring blankly at the one she'd died for.

_...Outside the fort..._

"You heard everything... didn't you?" Mu'Ulm asked softly from where he and Neia crouched in hiding after they withdrew further into the forest.

She nodded. "I did, but the time wasn't right."

"You didn't save her because the time isn't right?" Mu'Ulm asked with a rumble of unhappiness.

"That's right." Neia folded her arms in front of her defensively. "I can't see in there, if I used my father's aura indiscriminately, there's a good chance I could have killed the captives. Or there might have been something in there that could fend it off, there are a lot of strange powers in this world, and I am not a god. Remember, doing that tears me apart, what if I use it, and then we're surprised by someone else and I can't fight anymore? What if someone else in there is a Hellwalker and can resist powerful auras? Too many unknowns, and even with this equipment, I doubt the two of us alone can take on that many when they're on guard."

Mu'Ulm's body relaxed visibly and he sat on a low branch, "So now she's dead, what do you want to do?"

"We wait, there's a hierarchy of priorities for a soldier, and these are clearly professionals, in an entrenched position, if we want to kill them all, we need to wait for them to get to the last priority. Sleep. They've just eaten..." Neia said with disgust, paused, and then went on, "so that won't be long. Once they're asleep, we can begin to strike. There was no evidence of ranged weapons at the fortress, so I doubt they have any here."

"So?" Mu'Ulm asked doubtfully.

"So..." Neia grinned and patted her bow, "this."

He went very quiet, though not from confidence, still coated with blood, her face looked more like that of a beastman than a human. It wasn't anything she did, every move was tranquil, quiet, almost like an evil force that was serene and content with itself.

The hours passed in silence until pitch black was everywhere. "Now we go." She said, stepping smoothly over and ducking under branches, while Mu'Ulm struggled somewhat with his size, horns, and equipment, and she slowed down to give him time to catch up.

They reached the edge and Neia drew out her bow and nocked an arrow. "First... we whittle them down a little." She said softly, and watched, counting the guards that patrolled the outside.

"No upper platforms, no towers, we'll take a few down here, first." Neia whispered. "When I take the first one down, you run up quietly, grab the body, and get it back this way. They're not in line of sight of each other, so we can wipe out the whole group one at a time."

Mu'Ulm huffed softly, and watched as the bow was drawn, and the arrow loosed. "Go." She said.

He looked, the beastman was still standing.

"I hit him, just do it." Neia said softly, and Mu'Ulm stood and began to rush forward, a second later, the beastman fell forward limply as the arrow pierced his brain.

Mu'Ulm snatched the body, it was a bearman, he mentally groaned, but hefted the beast onto his back, and ran hard and fast back towards Neia's position.

He saw her drop, and he imitated her gesture, the darkness covering him, he prayed to Kiril that it wasn't one of the catmen coming around the side of the fort, with their perfect night vision, it would be impossible to hide.

He glanced over his shoulder, relieved when he saw it was a pandaman.

It went past, and he rushed back to Neia's position, rolling the corpse past her.

"Hurry up, go get the next one!" Neia whispered fiercely, and he turned around to see she had already popped up to a kneeling position and sent another arrow flying.

He wheeled about and rushed forward as if chasing the arrow, which in a sense, he was. The pandaman took the hit through the brain like the last one, and so it went, until there were five bodies lying behind where Neia had hidden herself.

Mu'Ulm grunted out a heavy, "Now what?" and crouched down beside her.

"We get the next shift." Neia said as if it were obvious. "That will buy us an hour or two, depending on how long their patrol shifts are."

An hour later, the gate opened, and five replacements emerged, shut the gate behind them, and waited for someone to come around the corner to relieve.

Neia smiled coldly as she popped up to a kneeling position. [Snakeshot] She said, and loosed an arrow into which she had imbued some of her mana. It went forward, tearing through the left temple of the one on the far left, then straight through the rest, only the one on the far right had a moment to understand that something had happened, and he turned to see his friends falling, just in time to take the arrow in his eye, and die.

Mu'Ulm watched, impressed, as she stood up and began to walk toward the fort. "That buys us an hour, and now there are ten less."

"Why not wait for the next shift to replace them? Maybe we could just do that all night and get a good forty of them?" Mu'Ulm proposed.

Neia shook her head, "No, someone will notice that nobody came back in, and then they'll be on guard."

"Now, get their weapons if they've got any, seems a lot of these like to use claws, but I'm pretty sure I saw some of them used spears and swords." Neia ordered brusquely as they came closer to the simple fort.

Mu'Ulm followed the order, and had a bundle of spears and a sword in one hand, there was little to be had, but it wasn't hard to work out what was going to happen, and every little advantage helped.

**[Ability Boost]** Neia whispered, and jumped up to the sharp tipped wooden wall, landing carefully balanced on top of it. She pulled out another arrow, and scanned for targets. Tents were plentiful, a handful of guards loomed over minotaurs who were flopped out unconscious, sleeping, passed out, or simply catatonic. There was a small female one staring blankly still at a skull that stared blankly back at her.

Neia thought back to the war with Jaldabaoth, the boy the Sorcerer King had killed when the demihumans had used him as a hostage. 'Sacrifice one, to save many...' She thought sadly, it would be cold comfort for her to know that her mother hadn't been rescued, in order to ensure everyone else could be.

The beastmen that stood near the Minotaurs were all variations of felinemen, tigers, lions, panthers... but they were few, and Neia was coated with beastmen blood. Outside, Mu'Ulm was no doubt already coating himself with beastman blood to disguise his scent.

She nocked an arrow, and sent it skyward, it came down, and shattered a jar just out of their line of sight.

She used their brief distraction to jump down, and open the gate slightly to admit Mu'Ulm, they raced quietly along the outskirts of the interior.

They came to the first tent, Neia put her finger to her lips, and the behemoth behind her slowed down. She pointed to the second tent, and then to him. He moved to the rear of it. She then pressed her ear close to the fabric, listening with care. He did the same, and then he set the weapons aside, and drew the white ax.

She stowed her bow and drew her sword, cutting the fabric was easy, and he did the same. The tearing was very slight, the sound of cursing from where the jar had shattered drowned out that little noise.

Mu'Ulm didn't need to be told what to do, he looked around the tent, there was the sound of snoring. One by one, he silenced it. He put his axe to throat after throat, cutting off the vocal cords so that even though they awoke at the sudden pain, they couldn't shout for help, with his enormous strength, he held them fast, ensuring that the last thing their eyes saw, was the hateful glare of a minotaur staring down at them.

There were eight alive in the tent when he entered, there were none alive when he went back out the way he came.

He emerged a moment later, to find Neia stepping out at the same time.

They could hear the sound of conversation among the ones watching the minotaur villagers.

"What the hell is this thing?" A catman asked, holding up the arrow to his companions.

"Beats me, but it's got an adamantite tip, so it must be something of ours, nobody else has access to that anywhere near here other than us." Another answered. "That what broke the jar?"

A low growl met that, "No, it's soaked with blood because it wanted to take a bath and the jar just broke with it in the middle of it. Whatever it is, it isn't natural, someone made this, and someone used it. I think we'd better wake the Captain."

"Really...?" One of the guards answered unhappily.

"Over that little thing?" Another added.

"No you twits, over whatever used it, we might have an infiltrator here." The more cautious one replied.

"It's not a minotaur weapon, look at how small it is. It's like it was made for the long pigs." One of them said dismissively.

"Maybe it has something to do with why our comrades from the fortress raid are slow getting back. I don't like this. Go alert the guards at the gate, ask if they've seen anything suspicious. I'll go wake the captain." The cautious one replied, then added, "And don't let the cattle move."

Mu'Ulm wanted to laugh as he cut another throat in his third tent as he listened to them go on. 'The arrogance... oh, the arrogance... fools, foolish foolish fools...' He thought as a pantherman died under his ax.

When he emerged, again in time with the bloody human, she held up a jar and opened it. He looked at her with questioning eyes, and she opened the top. The smell of hard liquor hit him, and he understood. He began to look for similar jars, and finding a few, the two of them went to additional tents, and began to douse them. The smell of blood and death so close to those who were awake, minimized the smell of alcohol as they frantically worked in shadows.

Neia then took a rope from nearby, soaked it in the substance, and tossed it lightly into the darkness, letting it land softly on a tent she'd doused. Mu'Ulm waited, crouched behind supplies as she made ready. When she was done, she pointed from him to the gate, and struck a fighting pose, then pretended to make a war cry.

He grinned. 'So... I'm the bait am I? Fine. This bait bites back.'

She held up her hand and pantomimed chopping at the tents where some still lived in alcohol tainted tents.

He nodded silently and drew his ax, and then she held up five fingers, and counted down, four... three... two... one... and then he ran, his ax swung out and sliced the ropes holding the tents up, just as shouting went up from the gate, Neia snatched up a torch from where it sat casting a dim light on the other side of their position, and threw it to the base of the alcohol soaked rope. The flame sprang up and raced along, bursting into wild flame and going from one tent full of beastmen to the next in rapid succession.

Mu'Ulm ran by firelight to the entrance of the gate where the bodies were discovered, and he bellowed out something not heard on Devor ground for over two hundred years, a minotaur warcry.

Massive by any standards, Mu'Ulm was a wall of minotaur muscle and within the flesh, a mountain of rage, he cut down the cheetahman that stood shouting the alarm at the entrance, sending his head spinning away, the camp sprang to the alarm as Neia rushed back, grabbed several weapons, and hid herself to wait as Mu'Ulm drew attention to himself.

"Kiril's Wrath descends on all your fucking heads!" He shouted with rage and held the white ax in his hand and braced himself with his massive shield. He let loose with two more war cries before the beastmen came enough to their senses to respond with aggression at the sudden emergence of a Minotaur Champion.

He clashed the ax against the magic shield and the beastmen began to respond, within the collapsed tents, screaming and pain were evident, and Neia quickly moved among the fallen tents that burned those within, and thrust her adamantite sword into moving bodies, while the remainder of the camp fell on the lone minotaur warrior that dared to challenge the might of the beastmen.

The minotaur captives snapped out of their nightmare dreams and woke to one in reality, unable to move, unable to truly see at first, they cried and screamed for help, the elder protecting the younger, the mothers and mothers to be protecting their young, until at last they came to realize it was one of their own that was doing the killing.

Fire danced over the raging bull's face as he swung his ax and beastmen died, he bashed them hard enough with his enchanted shield that more than one went flying off with broken limbs, and it was as though the spirit of Kiril had descended on one of their number.

Neia grinned, 'I knew he'd be good at this.' She drew her bow and began pumping arrows into the backs of those who struggled to get in on the behemoth, arrows sprang from heads and they dropped like mayflies whose time had come, she killed a dozen more before anyone realized she was there.

It was the captives who realized it first when they heard the voice.

"Break and fall one and all..." She put power into her words, the horrible reverberation of the evangelist was impossible to miss as she walked closer, firing arrow after arrow, putting down the guards who struggled between their obligation to guard the prisoners and the urge to fight.

When they fell with arrows in their skulls, Neia stood over their corpses, bloodstained face and body reflected in the light of the flames of the camp, she looked down at them, "Come with me, if you want to live." She reached down to the waist of a guard and yanked a key loose, and tossed it to one of the dumbstruck minotaurs.

The beastmen were hammering away at Mu'Ulm, who stubbornly refused to show his back, and kept them in front of his shield, but some at the rear recognized the threat that emerged unexpectedly from the behind, the minotaur prisoners worked frantically to unlock their chains, and Neia pointed to the small number of weapons she'd dropped nearby.

Out of arrows, she drew her blade and whispered, [Endurance of Unlife][Death Grip][Grim Hand][Agility Boost][Wrath and Retribution] And the eyes of blue became black voids in which only red points glowed to fill those who saw them, with utter terror.

"Kill them all! Kill them all! Kill them all!" She shouted in her wrath, and flung herself at the handful that were charging the minotaur prisoner area and this new and unlooked for, unfamiliar enemy. Her sword cut through the first, and she ducked beneath a claw only to, with the grace of a dancer, spin and leap upward, thrusting the blade through the neck of her attacker and with the strength of the undead, propel him onto his back and use his body as a springboard to land on the lionwoman who caught her.

The lionwoman was powerful, and knocked Neia's sword from hand, proving long training and deadly skill, but the momentum of the human who, in defiance of the natural order, had pounced on her, carried her onto her back, and Neia's thumbs found glowing golden eyes. They got one good look at the void and red points, before the thumbs came down, and pushed eyes of gold down into the skull, hooked behind the bone, and pulled apart, opening the head and spilling the brain like the contents of a melon being cut open.

Mu'Ulm's eyes had gone red with battle mania, berserker rage had more than tripled his already considerable strength, his ax ignored their armor, their weapons could not pierce his shield and what blows did come in, seemed to simply glance off his breastplate, and his bashing with the big round shield broke limbs through flesh and sent deadly bearmen crawling away in hopes of safety that no longer existed.

The powerful beastmen felt their strength sapped by the cursed voice that ripped through their souls, and more became aware that they were under attack from both sides.

Shouting increased, and the desperate minotaur villagers, having freed themselves, snatched up the weapons, and ran like figures possessed of unholy hatred, flames spread wildly by stray sparks, as if the very fire itself hated the Devor, tents were alight, and the unthinkable nightmare did not begin to die, until the courage of the beastmen broke, and they tried to flee.

The beastmen were still ten or twenty in number, and they ran from Mu'Ulm and the hopeless notion of getting through the gate, and ran from the Minotaurs, rushing toward the rear wall thinking to leap or climb, if they could be said to think at all, and then, and only then... was the coup de grace engaged, when she was sure there was nobody she wanted to rescue that would fall by foolish accident.

The mountain of her father's aura crashed down on the handful of beastmen, casting them down to the ground, roaring in pain at the pressure and the noise of the thunder in their ears.

Neia felt her flesh begin to rip from the exertion, but against so few... it was manageable with relative ease. She approached them one by one, and shoved her sword through their backs, piercing lungs or hearts.

The minotaur prisoners, eager to exact retribution, went to participate, only for the giant in the impossible armor to order loudly, "No!" they hesitated, though twitching at the hooves to move.

Finally there was only one left alive.

One that seemed very strong, as she could still move. "Pl-ease." The vaguely feminine voice had the gall to say.

Neia knew the sound, the one conducting the ritual they could hear beyond the wall, the one giving orders.

The lioness managed to raise her head, with great struggle and effort, and looked with dismay at the face framed and reflected by dancing flames. "Human... a mere human..." She looked into the whorling void as Neia wiped her blade contemptuously on the lion woman's fur, and sheathed her blade.

The human's hands went under her chin and held her up, so that she could not help but see the points of red light. "I see you... I will always... see you." She smiled almost lovingly, and spoke in a gentle voice, and the lionwoman began to scream as the pain ripped through her body when Neia's fingers tightened, and another life was ended.

Neia cut off the aura, and walked slowly over to where Mu'Ulm was standing with the captives.

The minotaur villagers stood, staring in mute fascination between the two unexpected rescuers.

"Good job, Mu'Ulm." Neia said and held out her hand.

Mu'Ulm took it proudly and shook it firmly. "We have shed blood together. I said this before when you spared my life, but I am your minotaur, in all things. Your god is Kiril, whatever name he goes by now, he's got to be our god, there's no other way that this miracle could be... and you... no matter how much you deny it, I 'know' you ARE Kiril's Angel." When her grip released, he fell to his knees and bowed his head in reverence. The peasants who stood around in dismay, lost and confused, frightened and hopeful, watched the one that they had briefly thought to be Kiril come again, kneel before the blood monster that stood in front of the behemoth of their kind.

"Get down, you heathens!" Mu'Ulm snapped hoarsely, and hesitant to disobey, they knelt before the bloody angel he'd named as Kiril's own.

'OK... what the hell just happened here?' Neia wondered as she struggled to catch up to the sudden shift.


	31. Pride & Dignity

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 30: Pride & Dignity

_...Crescent Lake..._

"I said NO!" Bertra shouted and managed, drunkenly, but managed nonetheless, to bring her arm up and send out a very hard slap across Lovien's face.

He staggered back and rapidly brought his hand up to the cheek she'd struck, his other hand landing on the table, the moment froze in time. He was breathing hard, and so was she, as she leaned against the wall. "G-Get out." She said, and managed to raise her arm sluggishly, pointing to the door.

Lovien, seemingly coming to his senses, slowly gathered himself. "I-I'm sorry... I..." he cut himself off, and half walked, half stumbled to the door, the bell rang at the front door as he exited, and Berenice slumped to the floor and wrapped her arms around her legs as she drew her knees to her chest.

She felt numb, staring vacantly at nothing as she tried to process what must have been only a handful of minutes, maybe even less. Time felt strange, she slowly stood and went to the upper floor of her home, drew a bath of water hotter than she'd ever felt, and flung herself into it, heedless of how much it hurt, she started scrubbing her skin raw.

She shut her eyes in the bath, and as her mind flailed about for what to do, she sent a message to the first person she thought of.

'Entoma... do you maybe have some time? I don't really want to be alone right now and I could really use a friend.' Bertra said weakly.

She felt an almost reluctant pause pass between the words she'd sent and the question's answer. 'Yes... if you want. I'll be there in five minutes, let me ask for a gate to be opened for me.'

Bertra acknowledge the answer and stood from the bath, her flesh was red and raw, and yet the sense of numbness wasn't gone, the water dripped down into the tub, it was the only noise there as she held the sides of the bath to allow the water to drip off her skin for a few moments, until she stepped over and let her wet foot hit the floor.

Deep breaths came and went that felt like they took a thousand years as she slowly reached for a towel and began to dry off. Her body was moving purely by rote as she dried off and put on a robe, before she went downstairs and sat at the table. One of the glasses had been knocked over, his manuscript was still there.

The thing at the end that touched her, still in black ink where he'd waited, probably to surprise her. 'Ugh, what a mess...' She thought as she slowly came back to herself, 'If I hadn't seen that... I might not have put myself in knots and then...' She rested her head in her hands as she sat at the table, hiding her face from nothing, until she heard the gate open and Entoma arrived.

Entoma wasn't sure what she should have expected when she walked through the gate, but seeing the former Cardinal with her head in her hands beside a toppled glass, a manuscript, amidst a few empty bottles on the floor, had not been counted among that list of expectations.

"Sorry to bother you Entoma... it's just... oh how screwed up is this? All my friends are dead, or think I am. I definitely can't talk to Zesshi about this, even assume she has forgiven me, how can I, who told her more or less to just 'put up' with the things the Elf King would have done, speak of this? Strange as this may sound to you... you're my only friend." She smiled weakly, and got up, she gestured to the other little, more intimate table where tea sat, and went over to pour, her hands shook as if they'd been caught in winter's chill, some of the tea spilled.

"I'm sorry... I..." Bertra began, and she felt the claw like appendage on her shoulder that served as the insectoid maid's hand.

"What is it?" The maid asked in the voice of a young human girl that she definitely was not.

Bertra closed her eyes and spat it out, "I... was almost raped tonight. By... by a man I like... liked. We'd been drinking, gotten flirty, it'd been awhile for both of us but I, I wasn't sure I wanted to. Wasn't sure I should, because of who I am, what I did when I was a human woman. He... pushed, hard. We made a bit of a mess. I stopped him, or he stopped... I was so drunk I could barely do more than make him pause, but then... he apologized and left and I don't know what to do! What to think or what to feel!" she exclaimed and threw the teapot to the ground in frustration. It shattered on the floor, scattering tea and glass fragments everywhere.

"Want me to eat him for you?" Entoma asked bluntly, and then she drew the now shaking Bertra closer to herself.

_...E-Rantel..._

CZ looked down at the dwarf holding the clipboard. "Done?" She asked succinctly.

The dwarf looked behind him, long wooden shelves stacked twelve high, filled the warehouse, save for the front waiting area and the long countertop where only a few years ago, soldiers had filed through en masse to draw their war issue in weapons, armor, kits, and so on. The gear was still there, but the soldiers had all gone home.

"Of course, what do you take me for?" He asked bluntly. "We have enough armor to outfit twenty-five thousand, and that's just here. Take the other facilities into account, and we can equip one hundred thousand Black Justice recruits. Now granted it might be a problem if we had to worry about sizing people but... that isn't an issue with magic gear. The only real problem we have is the order for axes and shields." The dwarf logistician stroked his black beard.

"Not much call for those, you know. But I did manage to get an order out and have a batch for first delivery, but who're these for anyway?" The dwarf asked curiously, "No tensions I've heard of with any other kingdom..." He hesitated as he started to laugh, "Like anybody would dare fight the Sorcerous Empire now..." He laughed hard enough that he had to hold his belly until he managed to get control over himself.

The ghost of a smile came briefly over the maid demon and then returned to her deadpan expression, "Minotaur recruits."

"Minotaurs?" The dwarf looked up at the maid demon.

"Yes, minotaurs." Skana said as she entered with Lakyus. "The voice of god has been busy... and it seems we've got another priestess there who is building a temple. The Minotaur Kingdom's equipment is absolute trash. No orichalcum, no mythril, no adamantite, their best equipment is made of steel."

Skana kept her hands over her obvious belly, the contour of her magic armor had changed to accommodate it, so despite her walk being more awkward, she appeared every inch the leader of the faithful, full of dignity and poise, and a passionate zeal in her eye that threatened to swallow the dwarf whole.

"Not much enchanting, no runecraft. This will give our own devotees a large leg up on basically everyone." Lakyus added, "Now what about the magicine equipment from your counterparts?"

The beefy little dwarf grinned with wild enthusiasm. "Ah, this little marvel. Those bastards in the Understone Empire delivered it awhile ago, didn't think there'd be much interest in it, but it really is amazing. A crossbow, with an auto pull mechanism, even the most dimwitted rock for brains peasant can become dangerous with one of these with only a little practice. It doesn't have the range of a bow, but it's perfect for the demihuman species that can't use bows, and it's as I said, easy to use." He hefted the thing, held it at the waist, and fired it at a target on the other side of the wall room. The bolt sank into the human shaped target, right at the crotch.

"Point made." Lakyus said approvingly, "Order them to make some minotaur sized, a thousand of them. I don't know what Neia has gotten herself into yet, but from the brief things Pandora's Actor passed onto us... a whole lot will change very, very fast, and we don't want to fall behind."

Skana managed a weak smile, "The trouble with serving a supreme god is... you always have to prove you can measure up and keep delivering, but the upside is... you can."

"Measure up? Was that a short joke?" The dwarf asked as he glared up at the wife of the pope and held his arms over his chest as if daring her to say it was.

"Entirely accidental, I promise you, master Dwarf." She said with a barely contained laugh.

He grumbled a bit, not entirely satisfied since she had to cover her mouth. "Will they really letcha just bring in weapons better than what ther army's got?"

Skana and Lakyus traded a questioning look, and then after communication that could only pass between those of long association, Skana nodded. "Yes, bandits are a real problem there, the merchants we're sponsoring will buy off whatever cooperation we need to equip their escorts."

"Wait... so 'you' fund the merchants, you arm the escorts, the merchants hire the escorts you're funding, and... I may not be the smartest dwarf outside the warehouse, but I'm guessing that its cheaper for temple merchants to hire escorts than it is for everyone else?" He looked at the pair with a new aspect of respect in his transfixed expression.

"You got it, Master Dwarf." Skana grinned and her green eye danced pleasantly, "The money comes back to the temple, and is then further invested into the faithful communities, and the non-converted royals and nobles have no real choice but to go along or strangle trade, since the merchants will have exclusive contracts with our own temple merchant classes that nobody else can compete with. And because ours will be the best of the best, in equipment, in training, warriors will be drawn to us like wasps to honey. Within twenty years, most of the country will be converted out of sheer necessity. But of course in the meantime... by showing how helpful we can be, perhaps we can keep them from killing my wife, that's the most important short term goal."

"Agreed." Lakyus added. A deep frown forming on her face, "Well, thank you, we'll leave it to you, my marvelous master logistician!" She said, and laid her hand on his shoulder. "You can help save her life, will you work hard for that?"

The dwarf nodded, "It's a service to His Majesty, who saved my people from the quagoa, for that, I'll do anything. Pardon me, I've got some order forms to fill out... lots of them."

He went off, leaving the two to walk out alone.

"The dwarves... it really is amazing how loyal they are." Skana said as they stepped out into the sunlight.

"I don't know who is more devoted to him, the dwarves or the elves?" Lakyus asked, "Really hard to say, isn't it? Save one from extermination, and the other from slavery, and which one are you more grateful for?" She shrugged, bouncing her blonde hair freely behind her back.

"Given the state of my former country? I think I'd guess the dwarves but... I'm biased, after all, it is because of him that I met my wife." Skana sighed wistfully as they traversed the busy street of E-Rantel, they might have garnered ample notice, given who they were, but the trial was going on, and Raymond was testifying, so in spite of how busy people were, most still turned eyes and ears more towards the huge image of the scene and the words being spoken. Raymond was detailing a plan to spend years of preparation to collapse the mountain on top of the Understone Empire to crush its inhabitants alive, rather than fight a war, and then start harvesting it themselves.

"Well, this is certainly... telling." Lakyus said, only half minding it.

"Still thinking about Gagaran?" Skana asked.

"Yes, the thing is, we were all... right." Lakyus looked down at the ground as her feet passed over it, and Skana looked at her in outrage, fury etched on her face, her fists clenched tight and a snarl forming on her lips.

"Take... that... back." Skana demanded.

Lakyus felt the rage coming off of her companion... "I didn't mean it like that..." It was the evident sadness in her tone that seemed to start to take the edge off of Skana's anger, more than the words Lakyus had uttered. "I'm sorry if I upset you... I don't mean that your wife is a monster. I really don't. But you saw what happened. She killed a man in open court, she hit the entire pavilion for a moment before she brought it to focus and murdered him in front of everyone. What if you had been there." Lakyus reached out and touched Skana's belly, and the warrior woman went white.

"She 'is' dangerous, if she can't keep control, what else do you think might happen? She's got a monster on her back that she hasn't shaken yet, I know, she's working hard, but it'll be a long time, if ever, before she is free of it. I feel terrible even saying this to you... I'm sorry about that, too." Lakyus said as she put her hand on Skana's arm.

"I refuse to believe it's going to end here. I won't accept it, I won't admit it." Skana said softly as her green eye welled up. "Everything we're doing 'will' make a difference. From Tinamoc's ideas on the merchants, to the publication of slave narratives, to our attempts at converting the population, we will get them to let her come home. They'll see... they have to see... she's not a monster, she was just striking back..."

Skana's voice faded away, and Lakyus moved a little closer to her, it was all she could do, to hold the tired mother to be on her feet, and take another step forward, all the way back to their temporary residence to rest before her next call to action.

_...Nazarick..._

Ainz sat alone in his office watching the mirror of remote viewing, when he heard a knock at the door. "Yes?" He asked with more brusqueness than he intended.

"My Lord, a message from the Argland Council State has arrived, they're asking to meet with you, in their chambers." Albedo's voice was full of awe, but as he had not given permission to enter, he had to hear it from the other side.

"Come in." Ainz said more gently, and he shut off the mirror hastily as Albedo entered the office, the stack of documents on his desk had not changed position, and he knew immediately that her eyes had fallen to that, and knew he had not been doing paperwork.

She came to him and knelt beside where he sat, looking up at him with shining golden eyes. "My Lord... I know the truth. I admit, it was... hard to accept before, but I have no doubt now. You were watching over her... weren't you."

Ainz didn't say anything, he laid a skeletal hand on her head and stroked slowly, she shifted her head to lean into the caress. "Nobody else will know, nobody else in all Nazarick, in all the world, can know this part of you like I. Not even that loli vampire nympho." Albedo whispered gently.

"Is she alright?" Albedo asked, when he didn't say anything, and only continued his touch.

"You've never asked about her before." Ainz finally replied.

"Because it was difficult to accept before. But now, having seen her prophetic gifts, and what it does to her, I have no doubts anymore. Can I... share something with you, my beloved Lord?" Albedo's golden eyes shimmered in the light cast by the white stones of the inner office.

"Yes..." He said hesitantly, keeping his red orbs fixed on her.

"When she married her Vice Commander, and they resided briefly here in Nazarick, I confronted her alone, asking for her support in winning your heart. During that time, she expressed that all she cared about was that the one who loved you, made you happy. She didn't even care if the woman who loved you, reviled her. I put that out of my head in a selfish moment..." She clasped her hands around Ainz's wrist.

"I did so, because all that mattered to me, was you, because loving you was made to be part of me. But having seen all that I have... I know I was wrong, terribly, terribly wrong about something." Albedo hung her head and no longer met the eyes of her Lord.

"Go on," Ainz said quietly, unsure quite what else to say as Albedo went on in a way he hadn't heard before, "I can't have you... love you, unless I accept every part of you, and that includes all that you cherish. How can I love you, and despise your own child? How can I dare to say my heart is yours, if I would revile someone of whom you are proud? I can't... and I won't. I... I read lots of stories in the Library of Ashurbanipal. I wanted to be able to tell stories to the child I'll bear for you one day, in many of these, there are wicked stepmothers, they love the man, but are cruel to the children of his body, because those children didn't spring from her. In those stories passed on by the Supreme Beings, I saw... a fragment of myself. Yes... she is human in body, but whatever her soul is... it is part of you, connected to you in so strong a way that even the future is offered to her in order to serve you, and at a cost most would never bear."

"Why are you telling me this...?" Ainz asked uncertainly.

"For two reasons, My Lord." Her voice became firm, resolute, and even courageous in a strange sort of way as she managed to slowly bring her eyes up to face his own again.

Albedo answered slowly, stumbling a bit over her words in a way that was most uncharacteristic of her, and yet she continued in spite of the difficulty she had in expressing novel thoughts. "The first... is because I want you to know, from the very bottom of my heart, that your daughter from the darkness, who you dragged up from the hell Demiurge created around her, is beloved of you, then she will be beloved of me. You alone will not call her 'daughter' ever again. As you cherish her, so will I, because if I don't... I can never claim to cherish you. I can only ask your forgiveness for not seeing earlier, what seems so obvious now."

"And the second?" Ainz asked, unable to think of what else to say.

"Because... I wanted you to save her." Albedo answered bluntly and stood up, her hands went boldly to his shoulders, "I was reading in the Library... prophets 'always' die, horribly. Prophecy 'will' kill her, in every story I read, they were ruined by their gifts. Some went mad, some were burned, some were tortured, some were exiled or simply beheaded, this 'gift' is a curse. So... I reached out to Argland, the dragon lords are very old, and have lived in this world a long time. They have knowledge of prophets, and will trade it to you. That is why they have reached out to you now."

Ainz felt his thoughts race as he listened to the way Albedo sped through her words, processing them as fast as his Overlord mind allowed, which... was very swift.

"You went that far, for her?" Ainz asked with surprise.

"Shouldn't a mother do at least that much?" Albedo smiled demurely, and stepped back, "Now, will My Lord choose to visit them?"

Ainz stood up, and to her shock, pulled her into an embrace, "I'm very... very proud of you right now." Ainz said tenderly, and her wings quivered like mad as she let herself revel in his hold on her body.

"Go. Before this hurts her again, My Love." She said, with at least some small reluctance, and Ainz opened a gate, and walked through it and out of the office.

Albedo looked at the mirror and after a moment's thought said, "Open last position."

The blank mirror sprang to life, and there on the glass, she saw the burning husk of a beastman camp. The fort was broken, and bodies were being dragged over to a pile. It took Albedo a moment to realize what she was seeing... because Neia was almost unrecognizable.

Her straw blonde hair was only still blonde in a few places, the rest of it was matted with fresh blood over dried blood, her entire body, seemingly, was drenched in it, were it not for the glimpse of hair, and the black void that was her eyes with their little glowing dots that for some reason, glanced skyward and made her identity evident, then Albedo felt sure she might have wondered who her lord was watching after all.

The demoness smiled pleasantly and passionately. "Good girl, kill them all, and make mother proud." She whispered to the screen, and cut off the mirror, before walking primly out of the office, a dark smile on her face, all the way to the throne room.


	32. Chip Off the Old Block

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 31: Chip off the Old Block

_...Ruined Rest Fort...Devor Empire..._

Neia looked around at the minotaurs and mentally groaned, but reading the crowd was something she'd gotten good at. "A god that does nothing is a god without worth, a follower of god who does nothing, is a follower without worth. And unless you're prostitutes, there's no work you're getting done on your knees. So stand up, and let's get to work." She said in a blunt, no nonsense manner.

She pointed to the ruin behind her, the embers of the fires she'd set were still there, some bodies were still burning, and the sun was just starting to peek over the distant horizon. "Go, gather all the beastman corpses together, and sever their heads. Then pile their corpses into one place. Put the heads near the gate, and look for something to carry them in. Deflesh them if you like, it will be a bit of a walk back to your homes."

The minotaur peasants were quick to follow the order, but as they did so, questions flew back and forth. "So he's not actually Kiril?" One asked.

"No, I am not. I am a follower of hers." He pointed over to where Neia stood soaked in the blood of the dead, "This was her plan, this was her choice."

Neia sorted through a book she found, leaving small marks of blood from her fingers as she read one page after another. "Anyone read Devorian?" She asked hopefully.

Blank looks and denial met the question, so she put the book aside. "Could be nothing, could be useful intelligence. The more I know, the easier I can kill them all when I need to. After you're done with the bodies, douse them with alcohol, but don't burn them yet." She gave her orders in a tone so firm that it didn't seem possible to disobey, and so they were carried out without question.

The blood monster in human form went over to the little minotaur girl who had not moved in hours, she just stared blankly at her mother's skull. As she stood next to the girl, she crouched down, and to Neia's mind sprang the memory of her wife, her growing belly, the child within that the Black Paladin was not even sure she'd live to see, and a swelling of sympathy rose up for the little one. "I'm sorry." Neia said sadly.

The girl looked at the mysterious monster, breaking eye contact with the empty skull, from which even brains had been scooped out for eating.

"Why... why didn't you get here sooner...?" The little girl asked in the tiny voice of an innocent.

"That just isn't how life works sometimes." Neia said, and reached out from her crouched position and touched the furry little cheek just beyond the nose. "But you know, she loved you very, very much. She gave her life for you, that makes her a hero, and you the daughter of a hero. She died very, very bravely."

A lowing noise that passed for minotaur weeping, escaped her mouth at last, "At least we made them pay, all the ones who took her life and body, had their lives and bodies taken from them. I'm a bit of a mess from all their blood... but that means none of them can ever hurt you, or her, again."

"Where's your father...?" Neia asked as the lowing went on, punctuated by huffs and choked breathing.

"Dead... last summer." The little girl replied.

"Aunts, uncles?" Neia asked.

"None." She answered.

"I..." Neia started to say then hesitated, 'Oh come on, Neia... use your head, you're on trial for fucks sake... you don't even know if you'll be alive next year, let alone able to look after... and would she... yes she would, that's how your wife is... alright, do it.'

The little girl looked up at her, and the heart of the Scourge of God was moved to pity, as the lost look within the girl with nothing, met the eyes of terror in a woman who once lost everything.

Neia looked over her shoulder, "Mu'Ulm, what happens to the kids who have lost their parents in these raids, if they have no other family?"

Mu'Ulm approached to stand behind the crouching Neia. "They go to homes where they're raised to teenage years, then sent to Last Home, or sent back to the border villages and towns." He said with some unhappiness.

That clinched it. Neia put her blood stained hands on the long snout of the minotaur child, "Would you... like to come with me? I have a nice house, and a good wife who will help look after you."

Life sprang into the vacant, lost look in the youngling. "Can I? But... what about...?" The little minotaur looked at the skeleton of her mother.

"Gather her mother's remains also, we're not leaving her here in the land that killed her." Neia said sharply to the nearest peasants.

The bustle of work was all but redoubled everytime she gave an order as what food could be gathered, was packed and made ready for the trip home, and anything that couldn't be used was destroyed, a pile of heads was made, and the bodies turned into an alcohol soaked pyre. Within a few hours, it was done.

"Good." Neia said brusquely and took up a torch. "Now before I light this and we get going, I have one stupid question to ask."

Silence met her.

"Why the hell does your kingdom keep reoccupying the land on the damn border, knowing these raids are going to happen?!" She asked with a frustrated tone as she looked around.

"Because..." An older peasant answered, with a frustrated, angry tone and clenched fists. "We need food. If we don't farm there, our kingdom starves, we 'have' to keep coming back to it, there's just not enough good farmland in the entire Minotaur Kingdom to feed our population if we ignore that land... so, we go back, year after year, harvest after harvest. If we lose a few hundred, well the farmland there is enough to feed tens of thousands with ease in a bad year. We have no choice."

Neia looked down at the little minotaur girl that was standing beside her and clinging with small, childish fingers to Neia's bloodstained pants.

"This kingdom is steeped in the greatest of sins... weakness, and yet... in your sacrifice there is the seed of strength. Follow the will of my god, and your Kingdom will be avenged..." She said, and then lost her voice to something else... 'On the day the King of the Minotaurs Dies and Lives, the Children of Bones will begin to gather, the black will sweep east, and devourers, will be devoured.'

Neia clenched her eyes tight shut against a sudden pain and reached to clasp the charm that was given to her.

"Neia...?" Mu'Ulm asked, putting a huge hand on her shoulder, she shook her head and passed the torch to him.

"Do it... it's your right to burn them, not mine." She said as she tried and failed to keep the pain out of her voice as she passed the torch to her second in command.

When the pain was gone, she looked up at the sky to where smoke was already rising high after Mu'Ulm lit the bodies aflame.

"Good. One more thing..." Neia said, and took a broken piece of wood from a barrel, and covering it with ashes from one of the many burnt out spots of the camp, she took a stray arrow and jammed it into the ground in front of the bodies, facing the gate. She then slapped her blood soaked hand hard against the wood, and propped it up against the arrow so that it would be the first thing the Devor would see when they arrived.

"What was that?" Mu'Ulm asked as peasants watched in equal parts fascination, admiration, and not a little fear.

"A calling card. One of the many names I earned in my travels was 'The Red Hand of God'. I want them to know who punished them today."

"They won't get it." Mu'Ulm said flatly, "If I'd barely heard anything of what went on west of us, I'm sure they haven't either."

Neia laughed slightly as she picked up the minotaur girl and hefted her up to the hip. "Not yet, no, no they won't. But my good Minotaur... this is far... far from over. They will find an arrow minotaurs don't use, they will find a red human handprint, they will find wounds from many arrows and swords that are too small for minotaurs to use... and it will be a mystery to them, one they won't forget. And then... one day, perhaps a generation from now... when your Kingdom is as I have said... blood will flow again, but it will be Beastman blood, and when the hostilities begin... I want them to remember the red hand, and know that I blooded them first. Before my children come to kill them all."

Neia glanced down at the minotaur girl clinging to her, "Would you like that little one? Would you like to kill the ones who killed your mother?"

"All of them?" The little girl asked with childlike innocence.

"All of them." Neia replied gently.

"Yes." The little one said.

"What's your name?" Neia asked with an affectionate smile on her face.

"Mu'Trieu." The little girl said.

"Welcome to the family... I think you're going to like my house." Neia tapped the little snout which she found to be irresistibly cute.

She then looked over her shoulder, "Alright, move! It's a long walk back, and I'm not wasting another minute."

'Why do I think I've just witnessed another terror in the making?' Mu'Ulm briefly wondered, and as he passed over the veritable hill of corpses his white ax and shield bashing had made, and the bloody nightmare walking in front of him, he felt foolish. 'Oh... yes... that's why.'

_...East of Fortress of Last Home...Highway of Tears..._

Mu'Bin paced the road along with his patrol. "Rat bastard. That utter rat bastard."

The sun smote the ground beneath as if angry at the ones who walked the roads. If the sun was angry with them, the wind at least seemed to be pleased, it blew quietly, with an easy tranquility that made the heat easier to bear. All in all, it was a beautiful day. But Mu'Bin couldn't enjoy that. He just kept repeating the same phrase.

"Saying that won't make him less of a rat bastard, you know." One of his comrades said as he walked next to Mu'Bin.

"I know, I know, but I can't get it out of my head. That rat bastard actually sent word that she ran away. I just... I knew Mu'Anik was scum. But that kind of scum?" Mu'Bin remarked with dismay.

"Maybe she did? Who knows? Maybe she was really fighting just for herself and we got lucky, and maybe that part about going off to rescue captives was just a smokescreen to let her run away and save her own life. I mean you don't end up in 'Last Home' for good reasons. Maybe she expects to be sentenced to death. Maybe she's scared? It doesn't matter, she's gone along with the big one that showed up, and we've still got a job to do. Just shut up and walk. The mourners will be walking the highway in a few days. We've got to at least make a show of being there to protect them from raiders." The warrior beside Mu'Bin sounded like he didn't even believe his own words, but the weariness in his voice convinced Mu'Bin at least, to quit talking for a while.

But it did not stop him from seething.

_...E-Rantel..._

Perhaps it was an unconscious habit after returning to E-Rantel after so long, but without meaning to, Lakyus found herself walking into a tavern she hadn't seen in years. The wood was just as she remembered it, so were the chairs, and though there were many new occupants, there were many of the old familiar ones as well.

Including two of the five members of Blue Rose. It was Keeno who saw her first, she jumped up to her feet and waved, drawing Lakyus's eyes to her, until she realized a moment later, who was beside her, and her hand came down hesitantly. Gagaran, naturally wondering who Keeno had seen, looked over to the entrance and saw the pair. She didn't wave, she looked down at her beer instead.

Skana's stare was as warm as a tundra blizzard when her green eye caught sight of the giant woman.

But true to her nature, when Lakyus turned to suggest "Maybe you should go to the hotel and get some rest..." Skana had already started striding over the floor.

She stood at the booth and looked at Gagaran, who despite being seated, was nearly Skana's height. "Are you satisfied?" Skana asked coldly.

Gagaran didn't say anything. "Well... are you?" Skana repeated.

Keeno slid further into the booth, and a moment later, the reason why, became clear, as unaware of what was happening, Enri approached bearing a series of mugs.

"You..." Skana said even more coldly than when she'd addressed Gagaran herself.

Enri's mouth opened and closed uncomfortably.

"How about you? Are 'you' happy now?" Skana growled at the peasant General turned Governor.

"Why would I be happy?" Enri asked. "Nothing about this makes me happy..."

"Doesn't it!" Skana shouted as Lakyus came to her senses and began to cross the room in clipped, swift steps. Heads in the tavern started to turn.

Skana's fist came down hard on the table, "You're going to kill her! You might as well hang her yourselves! How could you! How could you! You were her allies! You fought together at Kami Miyako!" The table shattered where she slammed her fist and a chunk of it clattered to the floor, and Skana turned her icy gaze on Gagaran. "You... you knew I was pregnant and you still took her away, you testified against her after she bled for you, after she came at your team's asking... She was willing to end her life for your sisters, and for you... and you turned on her out there..." Her eye turned its wrath on Enri...

She raised her hand and pointed at the former commander of the Army of Carne, "But you... you're worse! You couldn't leave her alone... it wasn't enough that she tried to kill herself just a few years ago, it wasn't enough that she nearly died doing what you lacked the will to do... after it was her hard work that gave you the soldiers needed to keep your own people alive through constant training. Her work, her instructors, and you want my wife DEAD! Or in prison! Why?! Over some Theocracy fucks that would have just rebelled like they did in your lands if we'd given them the chance! Now I might have to raise our baby alone... all because of you and your ridiculous obsession! Well you may have won it! She killed a monster in an open court, and now... now..." Skana began to break down as her rage was defeated by her fear. She leaned hard on the table as choked sobs came out...

"Now unless something drastic happens... there's no way... I don't... what did we ever do to you... why?! WHY damn it?! We were getting our lives back! I had her back from the very brink of death after so long..." She reached down and touched the place where a little kick made itself obvious.

Lakyus reached up and took Skana by the shoulders to draw her back.

Gagaran just looked down into her beer, but Enri raised her head to look over at Skana.

"Because some things, nobody should walk away from, and I wasn't going to pretend none of that happened. I'm... really sorry. I'm sorry about how much this hurts you both. I'm sorry about how it hurts you. I'm sorry you have to go through all this with a baby on the way... but if she's got to be who she is, I've got to be who I am, and who I am, isn't someone who can just let the powerful walk away from massacre."

Enri's tone was resolute, but regretful, and Skana met that resoluteness with fury and choked out words. "Great... when she's dangling from a noose, rather than cutting the cord, I'll tell our child you sent your apologies for what you made happen to her other mother. What happened out there... right or wrong, was over. All you did by being yourself... was creating three more victims to add to the tally."

"All I wanted..." Gagaran whispered, "was for everything to be alright again. To sleep again, to know my sisters were safe again... I didn't want to be right. I wasn't trying to betray anyone, but I couldn't let that go."

"Will you let go when I bury her...?" Skana snapped as she choked back a sob. Lakyus's constant steady pull on her shoulders was finally becoming effective. "I... Lakyus, I'm going back to the hotel, I'm not hungry now, I just want to rest."

Lakyus nodded, numb, and moved aside, "Need help?" She asked.

Skana shook her head, "No... I can still manage this much." She cast her eye over the pair, hate flaring up in the one eye she had left. "Whether they convict her, acquit her, kill her, or imprison her... I never... ever want to see you two again, not for as long as I live. And if they kill her, I hope her death haunts you like it will me, for as long as you both live... and I hope you live forever."

Skana the Bold then turned around, and stormed back the way she'd come.

Lakyus took a deep, heavy breath, and Gagaran moved aside to allow room for her sister to sit.

"We've got to work this out... I don't want to see my rose wilt." The noblewoman turned adventurer said gravely.


	33. Homeward Bound

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 32: Homeward Bound

...Crescent Lake...

Bertra gave a weak smile. "Ten years ago... five years ago... I'd have wanted you dead for existing... now you're the only friend I've got, and the only one I can talk to about this. What a world." She held out her hand over the table and the arachnoid limb touched it. "But... you won't seriously eat him, will you?" Bertra asked as she second guessed the question.

Maskless, Entoma's monster face was on full display, "My kind would usually wait till 'after' mating. I am ignorant of both elves and humans' intricate, intimate ways. I have some knowledge from the elves that live with Mare and Aura, and know that what almost happened to you, and what did, is terrible. But... I don't really grasp it. I only know that my friend is hurt, so? Here I am."

"I'd say you'd make a very excellent human, but... I know enough about humanity now to think of that as an insult." Bertra looked down. "What do I do? Did I make him do this?"

Entoma looked at her with all eight eyes... "Did you mind control him? Did you use some special martial art or scripture skill?"

"What... no of course not." Bertra replied, in so much dismay that her eyes snapped up from their downward posture.

"Then he made his own choice." Entoma replied, and asked, "Do you want to go see a healer, are you injured? I'll go with you, if that is what you want." She then reached for her bug mask that concealed the monster she was, and Bertra shook her head.

"He did stop, though if he hadn't, I... I thank you, I would say yes, just the thought... I... you know, I almost went with it just to make it seem OK, like I could have pretended I'd 'chosen' to give in when I didn't want to, when I had decided at least, that I didn't want that to happen. Not then, not like that. I'm still a goddamn Cardinal of the Theocracy, a scripture member, how could I even consider deluding myself?" Bertra reached for one of the lemon biscuits she'd made earlier, and took a bite.

"Is that strange for elves?" Entoma asked, "I've met the playthings Vanysa punishes, she gives me pieces of them to eat, sometimes, do you know she has a special rule that she never reveals to her prey?"

"What's that?" Bertra asked, filing away the 'eating pieces' part for later questioning.

"That if they ever admit, genuinely, that what they did was wrong, that they were wrong, for some reason other than fear... she'll end the punishment, it's part of why she never targeted the Pope, because the Pope has never denied that she was wrong. There are... other reasons, but do you know how many of her prey she's ever released?" Entoma asked in a hushed and almost conspiratorial voice.

Bertra shook her head.

"None. They just can't admit it, the man who stole from the Sorcerer King, the priest who extorted sex from desperate peasants, the king who tortured her to suicide, the brief monarch fool who took the throne out of petty greed and arrogance... and many others, they all have their excuses, justifications, for why what they did was perfectly alright. Why they're not really wrong." Entoma couldn't smirk, but Bertra heard it in her voice and saw it in the way the maid demon leaned forward.

"What's your point?" Betra asked uncertainly as she sat back in her chair and held her shaking hands together in her lap.

"Nobody likes to admit unpleasant things, easy to deny, easy to pretend, it hurts less, I guess, maybe that goes for the one the predator targets as much as the predator themselves?" Entoma suggested tentatively, waving her arachnoid arm in an all too human gesture. "The important thing though is... what do you want to do? If you don't want me to eat him for you, then what do you want? Isn't that what matters right now? Or am I making some mistake about your kind's behavior again?" Entoma added the question in a pragmatic sort of way, but Bertra looked at her like it was the rising sun after a gloomy night.

"I want... for starters... to get an apology. I trusted him... let him in here, let him drink with me, let him close to me... I deserve an apology god damn it! And that's what I want first." Bertra's hands became fists as she spoke, and though Entoma's expression didn't change, couldn't change, her voice perked up.

"That's more like it." The maid demon replied pleasantly. "Then can I eat him?" She asked hopefully.

"...Maybe. I'll think about it." Bertra said dryly while she reached for another lemon biscuit. She chuckled a bit at the dark humor, "But seriously, no, when important people disappear, questions get asked, and it might come back to His Majesty, or it might lead to me getting exposed… I have a life here, I don't want to risk losing that, and I don't want to risk hurting the king who gave me a new life. But… thank you for the offer." She said with a grateful smile turning up the corners of her lips ever so slightly. "Now how about another biscuit?"

"That, I can eat." Entoma answered, and reached for it as Bertra held the plate out to her.

...Highway of Tears...Devor Side...

The walk back was pleasant enough as far as Neia was concerned. She retrieved the skeletal mount from the side of the road she'd set it on, and remounted it, placing Mu'Trieu in front of her. Mu'Ulm however, chose to walk beside her. "At least I'm eye level with you now." Neia said with a mild laugh that was somehow more terrible given her uncleaned and bloodsoaked state.

Mu'Ulm shrugged, "Better you in the saddle, than me. I will need a lot more time before I'm comfortable with something like that... and I don't think I'll trade my dignity away just now."

Neia mentally rolled her eyes, 'Nobody ever laughs... was I always this bad at jokes?' She wondered before shrugging it off.

Mu'Trieu looked down at the skeletal horse with quiet fascination, while the body of peasants that walked behind looked at the bloody demon on the back of an undead beast, and kept their own thoughts to themselves.

"How long do you think we'll have before they come looking for their raiding parties?" Neia asked Mu'Ulm cautiously.

He brought his finger to his snout and scratched beneath his mouth, he huffed a few times as he thought, "Hard to say, in the stories I heard growing up, they used mostly catmen for raids, those are fast and can run hard, at least for awhile. This force used bearmen as well, so they're probably not expecting a quick return. Call it a few days before they're suspicious, unless that fire alerts someone important. Even then it won't be considered urgent just yet. We should be fine, even if they notice before then, they won't know what to make of the scene." Mu'Ulm replied thoughtfully.

"Alright, but I'd still rather not waste time, we won last time in part because they were expecting no trouble, if anyone comes after us, they'll come expecting it." Neia replied to him, and then looked over her shoulder at the following peasants. She kept her doubts to herself. While there were some who could have managed, there were the very aged, and the very young. She looked down at Mu'Trieu and gently stroked her head with bloody fingers.

They didn't stop for a rest for the next four hours, at which point Neia said flatly, "Relieve yourselves, rest for a few minutes, and we move again." Her command voice brooked no argument, and some of the minotaurs simply flopped to the dirt where they were.

"Eat whatever food you've brought with you, we won't stop again till we reach the water." Neia said gently, but firmly. "Then and only then will we rest, and then only for a few hours, we've got to make sure we get you home... before they come looking for you."

That made terrible shivers rise, and the hairs on most of the minotaurs stood on end.

"Can't you kill them again if they come after us?" A gray furred minotaur asked anxiously as he walked over to her.

Neia shrugged. "Maybe? Between Mu'Ulm and myself I'm fairly confident we can kill any handful they send our way, but we're not gods, and there are a lot of strange and terrible powers in this world. Who knows what they might send? Someone immune to fear? Someone with supreme physical strength that my arts won't allow me to surpass? Powerful golems? Or even if they don't, and just send numbers, some might get past us to come for you. Unpredictable chances are to be avoided if possible. I won't risk your lives due to my own overconfidence." Neia replied with a professional analysis, but a more gentle voice than one would expect out of someone whose skin was red from bloodshed. 'No... I won't make that mistake again...' She thought as she reached out and put her hand on his shoulder, "Listen old man, I'm doing my best to get you all home alive, I'm proud of the faith you place in me, but it is for that very reason that I'm not willing to risk you all over my vanity."

The old man's evident anxiousness with her initial reply, seemed to melt away as she spoke compassionately, and his eyes twinkled a bit. "Thank you, Angel of Kiril. To think that I should live, to see a miracle..."

Neia sighed, "Just get some rest for now, it's a long walk still, you'll need your strength for when we start it again, and miracles take work too, you know. You don't get them by slacking off."

The old minotaur went over to a large tree trunk and sat with his back against it, wearily closing his eyes.

Twenty minutes later, she was checking the Sun's movement over the sky with her fingers, and declared, "Alright, time to go!"

Groans and grunts and little cries from those too small to understand why the red lady was yelling again and they had to move, echoed briefly in the air. Neia held out her hand to Mu'Trieu, and the little girl relaxed while Neia picked her up and put her on the front of the skeletal horse. She mounted behind the girl and looked over her shoulder, the old minotaur was still asleep at the tree. "Hey, old man, let's go already, the border won't come to us!" She shouted half jokingly, again annoyed that nobody seemed to find that even slightly humorous, but he didn't wake up. "Mu'Ulm, would you?" She asked her behemoth companion.

He grunted and went over to the old gray minotaur, and crouched down in front of him, he shook the sleeping form at the shoulder, "Hey, come on, oldster, we've got... to... oh."

He trailed off and looked over his shoulder, the grass making a small 'whish' noise as he turned his body partially to one side to raise his gaze up to where Neia sat. "He's gone, age took him, I'd say." Mu'Ulm said passively.

Neia's face stayed relaxed, "Damn." She said sadly, with her lips pursed.

"Anyone know him?" Mu'Ulm asked the gathering group.

There were a few nods, "We can carry him." One of the younger minotaurs offered.

Neia frowned, "Can we keep the same pace?"

That brought them up short in midstep.

"We'll have to slow down..." They said slowly, and stopped when they saw the expression of blankness on her bloody face.

"It's one thing to carry bones, but another a whole body, we can't risk slowing down. I'm sorry for the old man, but he died free and going home, and the dead don't have a right to put the living at risk. You can't accomplish anything by dying for the dead." Neia said with pity in her voice as the lowing and mournful huffing that passed for mournful sounds among the minotaurs were slowly taken up.

"Can we at least hide his body? So we can come back for him later, when the danger is passed?" A sizable minotaur woman asked as she approached Neia's horse.

Neia idly stroked Mu'Trieu's head, enjoying the feel of her tufts of fur between her bloodstained fingers. The pope thought it over for a moment, "What do you do with bodies?" She asked as a thought occurred.

"We bury them." The minotaur woman said simply.

"So worms eat them... alright, there is nothing better about worms than wolves or other beasts. Deflesh the body quickly and leave that for the beasts, and you may carry his bones with you to bury in his homeland. Bones are all we leave behind anyway, so let that be done, so he does not rest in the land of his enemies." Neia suggested the compromise on the fly, and for a moment stunned expressions of wide eyes and open mouths looked blankly at her.

She stared back, the bloody incarnation of war, telling them to honor the bones and abandon the flesh. Mu'Ulm was quick to interject, "You heard Kiril's Angel! To die is to pass beyond the power and bonds of flesh, only the bones endure, and only those need rest when the end comes! See to it! Quickly! Let the beasts be honored by his flesh, while we honor his bones!"

'I didn't say that... at all. But... it wasn't half bad, and it got them moving, I'll take that win.' Neia thought to herself as the minotaurs defleshed the body with the speed of those used to taking care of livestock, and within minutes, the grass was stained red, flesh was abandoned, and the bones were distributed among his friends and family to be carried back as one.

Without noticing it, those who bore the bones of the dead home, took central positions within the walking group, and those around the bearers of the dead, began to speak more deferentially to the bone bearers.

"I think you've just started a new tradition among the minotaurs." Mu'Ulm said as he walked beside Neia.

"It's a practical one at least. My people often deflesh the dead, we raise the skeletons of those who bequeath their labor to the living, so there are some who use knives, others who boil, others who burn, the flesh away, leaving only the bones of the dead behind with which to work. The flesh, that useless burden that impedes the will with fear of its fate, we use to keep the fields fertile, so that the living may benefit from our lives even after they end." Neia explained quietly.

"That is how you honor the dead?" Mu'Ulm asked curiously.

"Yes, we honor their lives, we remember them by their example, some ask to be buried, some ask to be burned, some offer their bones to work as laborers for their loved ones, or temples, or so on. The dead work for the living, the living work for the living, and because everybody is trying to help make things better for everyone, we get a better world." Neia explained in a slow, solemn voice as she kept her eyes focused ahead of her.

"What about you?" Mu'Ulm asked tentatively.

"What about me?" Neia asked with a bit more bitterness than she intended.

"When you die?" Mu'Ulm elaborated as he looked over to her, his shoulders rolled casually with every step of his hooves and he caressed his white ax as if it were a lover at his side.

"I told my father he could do with my body what he wants. Some want to do experiments on my body, to find a way to make more of me, some have proposed turning me into an undead, I don't know what I want for myself, given the probability that I won't be around much longer, I should probably turn a thought to that but... I'd rather just leave it in his hands, or my wife's, I doubt they'll disagree with each other." Neia shrugged dismissively.

Mu'Trieu craned her neck up, "Why?"

"Why what?" Neia asked, finding it impossible not to smile down at the wide childish eyes.

"Why wouldn't you be around?" She asked anxiously.

"I... did some bad things, when I lost my temper, lost control, some people got hurt, more than hurt, and it was my fault. Now I've got to pay for that. Some people say I was justified, or that it could be excused... but as the one who pushed hardest for me to pay for it, said to me, 'Some things you don't get to walk away from.' So... it is what it is. Don't you worry your pretty little head about it, Mu'Trieu, I'll make sure you're safe first, my wife is a very nice lady who loves children, and she's a very good fighter, better than me with a sword in fact, she'll teach you everything you need to know, to make the beastmen pay for what they did to your mother." Neia's voice was almost a sing-song tone as she spoke to the little girl.

Mu'Ulm felt his blood run hot in his veins as he pondered what kind of future the Black Paladin was seeing laid out before her as she went back to stroking Mu'Trieu's fur with her bloody fingers, unthinkingly matting some of the little minotaur female's fur with the blood of the beastmen.

...Kirakira Prison...

Raymond relaxed in the prison yard... sort of. It felt good to feel the sun on his skin. He watched as a minotaur fell forward when someone grabbed a horn and yanked it forward after the unfortunate overextended himself with an ax swing.

"Stop!" Raymond yelled at the ones he was observing. They paused and prepared to reset. "That was good, that was very good." He said as he praised the one who threw his counterpart off balance. "But if you can do it, it can be done to you, and beastmen are big enough that they can."

"Yeah? So, what do you want me to do, cut it off?" The defeated minotaur asked, "Would you cut off your cock, just because someone might grab it in a fight?"

Raymond stifled a laugh at the indignant tone. "No... but why not make it painful to do so?" He looked up at the minotaurs and stroked his beard. "Got it, come with me." He said, and led them both over to the area where instructors were teaching others leather and metal crafting skills, he called the elves over, and explained to hostile eyes what he had in mind.

The two teachers looked at him, listened, and looked at each other with wide and admiring eyes. Under the curious eyes of their prisoner students, and the watchful eyes of the guards above, they set to work.

A short while later, the minotaurs horns were measured, and the cutting, stitching, and securing of materials were underway, laces were affixed to the ends of their product, and then the first two pairs were presented with outstretched hands and proud expressions of masters of their trades.

"Here, allow me." Raymond said, and the minotaurs went down to their knees, curious eyes became profoundly interested, and watchful eyes became interested, as a glove like leather sleeve went over each minotaur's horns, and from those leather sleeves, sprang deadly and terrible spikes. "All you need to complete this, is a paralytic or deadly poison, and you've made your horns even more important to ignore, and even deadlier to use. Imagine five hundred charging minotaurs goring in with these on their horns, paralyzing or poisoning everything they don't just tear open?"

He spoke like the Cardinal he was, authoritatively and with projection, and clamoring for more of these deadly horn sheathes began in earnest from above and below.


	34. Bargaining

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 33: Bargaining

_...Argland Council State...Government Chambers..._

Ainz stepped through the gate and found himself in front of the Dragon Lords.

"I was told you wanted to speak with me?" Ainz asked, doing his best to keep his voice neutral. 'Play to the undead angle, they're going to use Neia to manipulate me if they can, I can't let them do that, at least not much.'

"Yes. I will be blunt, your daughter is as good as dead." The Platinum Dragon Lord replied from his seat at the center of the half moon shape of their positions.

Ainz feigned ignorance, "I see you've been watching the trial, do you think their move against her was that effective? That they'll really have her put to death?" Again his voice remained neutral, but his mind raced, 'I must make sure they devalue the worth of their assistance themselves, if they think she'll be executed, then knowledge of prophecy and prophets will lose all value that it has. I can't let them play the long game.'

The Dragon Lords traded looks with one another as they contemplated their only leverage being thrown away within a few weeks or so. Despite their very different faces, he caught the twitches in some of their eyes as they suddenly understood the time limit that might erase their bargaining chip.

"Ah, yes, but assuming she survives the trial, we assume you don't want her to die the way prophets always do." The Worm Dragon Lord said hopefully, leaning in slightly as he spoke as if seeking to gauge Ainz's reaction.

The Undead King remained unmoved, "It is no secret that I value my servants, inordinately so, sometimes. Sacrificing them, even my own nearest ones, may be a necessary thing, but it should not be done without reason, or without gain. If you are offering some way to preserve her life, I am listening."

Their attitude was subdued as he seemed barely interested in saving her. He didn't respond to their tantalizing offer with the eagerness they'd expected out of an undead that broke the mold. Now, in that instant, the unmoving being seemed the image of the tyrant that powerful undead always were.

"What value is her continued life to you?" The Blue Sky Dragon Lord asked in turn.

'Clever, force me to make an offer, fair enough, but I'm not as easily caught as that.' Ainz thought to himself as he recalled his days as a salaryman.

"I could offer you treasures that will make the world envy you. I could offer you a favor, bestowed by my matchless magic, when your nation comes to a time of crisis. I could offer favorable trade that would enrich your kingdom beyond measure. I could offer the fruits of our learning, the likes of which I have not even begun to unveil to the world. I could even offer all of that. Or... I could offer you something far... far more valuable to you, in ways you cannot yet even dream." Ainz said, raising a hand and holding up one finger to give them pause.

The Dragon Lords could not restrain their innate draconic greed, and all but frothed at the mouth for the prospect of all those things, until he offered the last thing as a mystery, a tantalizing mystery, and they leaned forward in their avatars... "What is it?" The Platinum Dragon Lord finally asked.

"My friendship. As father, as god, as king. I will treat you as dear friends, and not forget that you valued my goodwill and my daughter's life, more than gold and power. I will leave the choice in your hands, which do you ask, in my loyal servant's time of need?" Ainz asked with warmth in his voice for the first moment since his arrival.

'Oh... that clever... clever undead.' The Platinum Dragon Lord thought, and saw the same looks on the faces of his comrades. A simple exchange had become a defacto alliance and it had cost the undead... nothing. 'So this is what Jircniv spoke of.'

"Well, if it is to help a friend in the south... what else can we do? The first prophet I remember emerged numerous centuries ago, he served what was, at the time, regarded as a great king. That prophet was destroyed because the king did not like his prophecies. The second was a generation after the first, he died in riots because he avoided the king and gave prophecy to the people. It went about as well as you can expect, if you're going to tell the truth to the people, you have to either be too powerful to hurt, or be ready to take to the sky to escape." The Platinum Dragon Lord said with a grave and sonorous voice that echoed slightly through his avatar.

"The next beyond that, lived older, but was driven mad by visions, and pain, so it went, either they were all destroyed by the ones they sought to save or serve... or they were consumed by their own curse as it tore at their mind." The Worm Dragon Lord said in a voice that was almost sympathetic, as he recollected his time 'undercover' exploring the Sorcerous Kingdom's city of E-Rantel, and finding himself fond of the way the King ruled... and of the set of magic toy soldiers he kept in his quarters for games played with his peers.

"I understand but... what can be done about it?" The Sorcerer King asked, releasing his staff and allowing it to float beside him as he folded his hands into a pyramid in front of him.

"We can answer that... but... 'if' her curse, is your blessing, are you sure you want to do anything about it? A powerful prophet, assuming she grows into one, can foretell great events, victories and defeats, challenges to be prepared for, for centuries. Surely that's more useful." The Diamond Dragon Lord proposed halfheartedly.

Ainz shook his head, "A god that casts aside its servants so lightly, is not a god worth following in the first place. In first world... there were many like that, veritable gods who ruled over the lives of the weaker. My friends, back then, were badly harmed by the actions of those petty and destructive rulers who considered themselves gods. I would think myself a poor king and a poorer god, who needed mortals to bewail their agony in order for me to thrive."

The statement hung in the air between them all, his words echoed off the dim chamber walls that had only the light of a single window streaming through to where Ainz stood in front of them. In the past, such a position had been meant to wreath Argland's leadership in shadow, to intimidate by putting the visitor in the light and the voices of the avatars in shadow would throw off the minds of those who came to them unprepared.

But now, it seemed to wreath him like a god, as if the light were something holy, sacred, and it troubled them sorely.

"The treatment is this... the curse cannot be lifted. Not by any power we know... but that doesn't mean nothing can be done, it means that she must be deprived of the means by which the curse is activated. Yes, we saw the trial, the pain she was in, it is because she was attuned to the divine. Moments of great emotion or memory, or reaching for the power of her god... will call up prophetic moments. One prophet I remember could call on it at will when he put himself into bursts of ecstatic seizures through wild motions, another through deep meditation, but both were exceptionally powerful in that regard." The Obsidian Dragon Lord explained patiently, "However they were bedridden and unconscious for long periods afterward.

"So I can minimize this to the point where she could live a mostly... normal life?" Ainz asked, "But it can't be removed."

"As normal as the life of anyone who has come too close to kings can be." The Platinum Dragon Lord replied somewhat sardonically.

"And as long as she is not exposed to anything too intense... and as long as she does not have to call on my power, she can manage." Ainz reiterated, looking into the dark from one Dragon Lord to the next for confirmation that he understood.

"Tall order. But... that is all there is, more than that, we don't know. Our nation has never produced a prophet, they are exceptionally rare, appearing only a handful of times over the centuries in different places, and only once did two live at the same time, and then, far apart. As far as I can recall." The Worm Dragon Lord added, somewhat apologetically.

"That will do. I will not forget it." Ainz replied and took his staff in his left hand again, the gate opened behind him a moment later, and he inclined his head politely, then turned and walked out, vanishing as if he hadn't been there.

"Did we... did we win?" The Diamond Dragon Lord asked as he looked around at his comrades, they looked around at one another, uncertainty couldn't appear on an avatar's face, but nonetheless... none felt any of the others had an answer forthcoming.

_...Menowa..._

'Food and money make you popular with those who are hungry and poor.' Nua thought to herself as she approached Mu'Sula, his friendly and gregarious personality had her smiling again as he waved from the cart of supplies he was bringing once again.

"What's the story for today?" He asked enthusiastically, "Or are you out of them now?"

"Oh, goodness no. Today it'll be a story of betrayal and atonement, of course this particular story spans over a hundred years, so it will take me a number of days to tell, and of course there is how it pertains to the glorious service of His Majesty." Nua grinned as she reached up and hefted down a sack of flour over each of her shoulders, then moved aside and waited as Mu'Sula grabbed a few himself, and they walked together across the street to where the storage area was coming into form at the back of the temple.

Mu'Sula was conflicted... as soon as he heard the story, his blood pumped hard and he couldn't wait... on the other hand... 'Damn it, every single time I think I can finally get around to robbing her, she's got something new for me.'

"I'll make sure to attend." He said as he looked over to where the workers were already busy and the food vendors were already out in force, but to his surprise, there were others there as well clearly selling nonfood materials.

"What are those?" He asked just as they were about to move out of sight beyond the building, she stopped and looked to where he'd turned his attention.

"Other vendors. I invested some silvers into them to buy supplies to make goods for sale here, and gave the workers and artisans a little bonus, have to kickstart things here or nothing will get any better. Next step, I need your help again." Nua said as she started walking toward the storage area.

"With what?" Mu'Sula asked with interest as he looked down at the little elf beside him and they tossed their sacks of flour down.

"Frankly the flour is expensive for the amount we're getting, I need cheaper produce, I want to visit a few farms, if you're able to help me. I'd pay you for the trouble." Nua explained hopefully as she hefted another pair of sacks onto her shoulders.

Mu'Sula gave her another look as he grabbed a few himself, the way she moved seemed different, her walk had been confident, but the way her shoulders rolled when impacted spoke of some combat training, and she seemed comfortable moving under heavy weights relative to her size. He filed it away for later inquiry with others, and turned his thoughts to her request.

"What will you do there?" He asked doubtfully, "They already produce as much as they can."

"Probably so, with their current methods, but His Majesty introduced a number of new methods in other places he's ruled, and provides the best possible labor for the task, allowing for much expanded harvests. If I can improve their production, I'm hoping to get a discount for temples here in exchange for knowledge and resources." Nua relayed the answer with the smooth confidence of someone who seemed certain they had something to offer.

"Fine, when?" He asked with interest, and added, "And how much do you offer?"

"Five silver, two if I keep you entertained along the way?" She proposed pleasantly.

"I'm a sucker for a good story..." He admitted, and shrugged, "Fine, it's a deal."

"Good, finish up the rest, can you? I need to get this going." Nua said as she jabbed her thumb toward the gathering crowds.

"More today." Mu'Sula said noncommittally.

"More every day." Nua said with pride in her voice and in her bright, smiling face, "When the temple is completed, I expect it to be quite crowded."

Not far away, as she headed to the now somewhat improved platform that was 'several' stacked crates creating a sort of stairway for her use, she heard the sound of the trial beginning. 'Raymond will be over there... I should, no, I 'want' to go see him.' She hesitated in midstep, and looked over her shoulder, then forced her head around to look ahead of her again and continued walking, the black cloak fluttered behind her, the fine boots clicked over the stone, her uniform made perfect through means magic and mundane so that she would bring no shame on her lord, she brushed her blond hair back to allow the rising breeze to catch and carry it behind her.

'Get over yourself Nua, you had your moment, and right now you've got a job to do, you can't run off every time you hear his voice. What are you, some fairytale damsel to run off from her duties every time a man you like happens to appear? How stupid would that be?' She mocked herself, but a wry and pleasant smile formed on her face as she caught, with sensitive elven ears, the sound of absolute conviction in his voice when he got briefly loud. 'Good to know he's here though, maybe I can do something about it later.'

She then put those thoughts from her mind as she ascended to speak as the minotaurs of the capital, now well over a hundred of them, gathered to listen.

_...Re-Estize..._

Lakyus sat with her sisters in silence. "So... what do we do?" She asked.

"You were right." Evileye finally said, looking humbly at Gagaran. "I... look the guy deserved it, but she brought that down on everything at once. What if it had been worse? But still... that doesn't make anything better. The religion she started lets you look me in the eyes again. The God-King brought in a year what I haven't seen in over two hundred... peace, real peace."

"You know..." Enri said sullenly, "It isn't as if she didn't bring this on herself, do you really have to tear yourselves up over it?"

"I was 'there' Enri. Don't talk like you know what it was like." Lakyus said with quiet calm, "I watched what she did, I was with her from Prart to Kami Miyako, nearly nonstop. You don't have to remind any of us of that. You had it easy."

Enri pursed her lips. "Perhaps I did."

"No 'perhaps' about it. You were given instructors to make your common soldiers into uncommon ones, you had nearly unstoppable goblins, dragons, heteromorphs, demihumans... you had the single strongest army in the war. There was never a chance of you losing, not really. And while you had a dangerous enemy, he's a basically good man. We didn't have that in the west, we didn't have that when we moved south. The brutal measures that were undertaken were frequently a weapon unto themselves. And we had to fight demons like Suchala, Yuri, and Remedios. Those three would have fit right in under Jaldabaoth's banner. And there were a lot of fanatics under them." Lakyus's frown deepened.

"A lot was on our shoulders, all of us, but we were on her shoulders too, because she was in command, she made mistakes, but... we came back alive, a lot of people came back alive. Couldn't you have just let the dead rest? To me, being there was punishment enough for a dozen lifetimes." The blonde adventurer shuddered.

"No. I know I made mistakes too, I was too kind, I underestimated the fanaticism of their peasants, the influence the temples had on them, I assumed they were more like peasants from my home. I didn't think the Agante could really get people to act against their own interests in such a destructive way just by appealing to the gods... but even so, even so... too many is too many and too much is too much and too far is too far. I didn't know this would tear you all up so much, I didn't know Skana would get pregnant and go through what she has, but even so... all I can say is that I'm not doing this out of spite, jealousy, hatred, or revenge. I'm just doing what I think is right..." Enri answered with a low, gentle voice as she stirred her beer with one finger, unable to bring herself to drink it at the present.

"So how do we resolve this...?" Gagaran asked, "Do we resolve this? How do you and Evileye feel?"

"This is... hard." Keeno replied, "But... you're my sister, no matter what, I know you weren't driven by some resentment against 'my kind'. But still... I think I need some time to myself... I want to go somewhere for a while, and just... just be by myself and let all this blow over. I can't do anything more to help her, or hurt her. At this point I'm a spectator, same as you two."

"And you?" Gagaran asked of Lakyus.

"You know... as a priestess of water, back when that is what I was, I spent a lot of time giving spiritual guidance and helping people through their problems. But nobody ever offered that to me, until the priestess of a religion I should have despised, put herself out there and asked me if 'I' was OK. You have no idea... no idea, how hard it is to erase a lifetime of bigotry, hatred, and fear. The day in the woods of Kedyn... you don't know how much this hurts to say... but Keeno, I could have killed you that day. I wouldn't have survived doing that, I would have just stayed there in the woods, holding your body until death took me... but I could have done it. It was only having my entire worldview shaken that let me shake it off entirely." Lakyus's voice was quiet, her eyes were glassed over, she couldn't look at any of them, but she went on.

"Maybe you were trying to protect us by turning on her, Gagaran... but why do you think we're even here to be protected? I... I understand what you were thinking, but this was wrong. As far as we go... I think... listen, it isn't for me to forgive you. And if she already has, this will take awhile for me to get over, but I'll do my best." Lakyus snatched up her mug and drank it to the bottom with uncharacteristic gracelessness.

"Great. You know, it'd have been easier if she hated me." Gagaran grumbled, "She told me when I arrested her that she was glad I kept my justice. I'd have preferred anger, instead it was just... resigned, sad and resigned. Thank you... but maybe some time apart would be best for all of us. But... we'll be OK, right, after a while at least?"

"Longer if they sentence her to hang." Lakyus said, and the table collectively stiffened as the very real possibility struck home. "If they do that... well... will 'you' be OK, Gagaran?" Lakyus asked gently.

"No. No, I won't be." Gagaran replied as she chugged and slammed her beer down.

"What a mess." Enri muttered, and said calmly, "I'm going to get more rounds, I think we'll all need them."

Nobody argued when she got up to do just that.

Skana sat up in the bed. It was comfortable enough as far as it went. Expensive, soft, rich maroon blankets, light still coming through the window, but it was fading into the orange glow of evening. She quietly read the sacred text of her faith, drawing comfort from it as she tried to understand why this was happening to her life, her wife, again.

"Food." CZ said, as she reached out and touched Skana's shoulder.

Skana shook her head, her auburn hair swaying behind her, "No... I can't eat right now."

CZ placed her hand over Skana's belly and looked at her with a rare intensity that, even for the sea beneath it, was still only knowable because of their long association and close friendship. "Food." She said in answer to Skana's refusal.

"F-Fine." Skana said, accepting the implied rebuke, and CZ pulled the rope beside the bed, summoning room service.

"I don't want to eat in this city though, not while those traitors are here." Skana said with annoyance and her face twisted in bitterness.

CZ didn't reply with words, she simply, with gentle pressure, drew Skana down on her side and began rubbing her hands over the skin of the warrior woman.

"Where did you learn this?" Skana asked as she felt her body start to relax.

"From Pestonya." CZ said, "To help with the baby."

"Who could ask for a better friend?" Skana said with a sweet sigh. "But what happens next?"

CZ didn't answer immediately, but after Skana let out a deep sigh of relief, she finally replied, "Tomorrow."


	35. Problems Great & Greater

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 34: Problems Great & Greater

_...Menowa..._

Nothing ever stopped the reports. In fire, there were reports. In flood, there were reports. In peace and war, there were reports. This did not change except to increase the number of reports, when it came to having a golem using, warmongering, beastman empire at your gates. Through magic, paper, light and smoke, all were employed to pass messages quickly from the most remote outposts to the capital city to the Ard Rhi's own hands.

Which is why Ard Rhi Mu'Fidelius was fuming as he read the information relayed to him. "She... left."

"What's that, husband?" The Ard Rhigan asked as she sat at her desk across from his in their private office. She looked up at his brown eyes, and felt her heart stir as she caught his expression. The stack of documents to his left was a point of pride and she let her gaze drift proudly to them before meeting his eyes again. 'Nobody works harder for his people, than my mate, finest of our kings... he will find a way to save us.'

"I said, 'she left.'" He answered his wife. He didn't need to explain, her mouth opened and closed a few times.

"What do you mean 'she left,' she just walked away?" The Ard Rhigan asked with a sharp bite of anger in her voice, the quill broke in her fingers as she clenched her fist. She swore as ink splattered over one of her documents.

'Ah, there's the fire that made me take Mu'Lita and make her my high queen.' He thought to himself, but kept his face calm. "From what this says, she... got on an undead horse with a massive minotaur warrior, and rode away after a battle."

"Well, the beastman raiders are terrifying, is it any surprise a human would run away before fighting them?" She asked as she considered the matter. "We'll hunt her down, put her down, and 'say' she died in the fighting. Of course we'll treat the body with honors but... how hard can it be to find a human out here, especially one running and terrified? Who knows, she might even run into Devor territory by accident and the problem will be solved just as well." Mu'Lita replied with somewhat greater ease in her voice as she contemplated the alternate ways things could improve.

So though she began to huff with mild laughter, she quickly stopped when she saw his fingers had not relaxed.

"No, the raiders were wiped out. The warriors became berserkers, the Devor were killed off, and she rode off... 'to' Devor territory after the captives. The warrior who went with her was her guide, a native of the region." Mu'Fidelius explained with his fingers tapping on the document as if to beat the words to punish them for saying what they did. They remained unmoved by the striking of his finger to the ink, and he stared at his wife and co-ruler.

"Any chance of apprehending her?" Mu'Lita asked with a low growl in her throat.

"If she can survive on Devor land, 'and' rescue the prisoners, what do you think?" Mu'Fidelius asked as he held the report over a candle and burned it, before snatching fresh paper and writing out another note.

"What are you doing?" His wife asked as she saw the rapidity with which he wrote.

"Sending a note to be routed east, we need all instructions burned, and anyone who knew what the instructions were, killed. We need deniability. If she does come back, I want it heard only that she ran away after a surprise raid and that we never intended to do any harm to her, she ran while the soldiers were fighting to protect her, that'll be the story, and... that'll be what we stick with." Mu'Fidelius said with a hint of desperation in his tone, but more telling was the shaking when he reached for the rope to ring the bell that would call a messenger.

A moment later a young minotaur boy appeared and knelt before the Ard Rhi. "Send this, then burn it." He said as he folded the paper and handed it over.

"Majesty." The page replied, and swiftly exited the room, leaving a gloom over the private office of the rulers of the Minotaur Kingdom.

_...Nazarick..._

"What are you doing?" Demiurge asked as he entered the lab and found Vanysa standing next to a wailing victim. "And why didn't you invite me for the fun?" He approached and stood beside her.

She set down the little crystals she was working with, "Trying something new." Her voice and eyes were clear as day, the beautiful storm gray that flashed like lightning when she was in orgasmic bliss.

"New 'how'?" Demiurge asked, and as the screaming interrupted him, the archdevil looked over to the specimen who lay naked, spreadeagle on the table and chained tight, "Be silent." he said, and the mouth of the man snapped shut, though pain was etched over his face.

"I was thinking of the item that slowed mana flow so that Neia wouldn't be in so much pain anymore when she had an episode. To extract it, I had this one drain some of his mana, but I got to thinking, what if we could 'force it' out, pull it like a bucket draws water from a well?" She held up a bloody crystal, "I shoved some of these into those holes I cut in his body, but encased them in some drain spell variations. Drain touch, drain mana, drain life, to see what would work. If it does, then even though these crystals don't hold much, we can use them to create a siphon and storage item. That might help keep her mana constantly too low for a prophecy to strike at all." Vanysa grinned wildly and touched her finger to the bloody hole in the subject's thigh, she dug her talon in and giggled down at him as he strained.

"In case you're wondering... he's from Yaksun. Neuronist got bored with him, he just has no singing voice, so... I don't blame her." The demoness said as her wings flapped with amusement.

Demiurge looked down at the human who was desperately looking around him in pain and confusion. "Doing something for Nazarick is one thing, doing something for a mere human is another. Especially if we're just going to get her killed, I'm very much looking forward to see what kind of undead we can create with her. With the emergence of this new skill, imagine being able to always know what lies ahead, days, centuries, tens of thousands of years, no doubt Lord Ainz knew she would develop this skill, and the Trial is just the way to have her die at peak loyalty so nothing will bar our ability to use her after death." He absently poked a claw into the hole in the man's guts and pinched his intestine, forcing him to spasm and rattle the chains that held him fast.

Vanysa shook her head, "No, I don't think so, in fact... he expressly ordered me to protect her life at all costs, even my own, outside of the trial. He wouldn't do that if she was just going to be sacrificed in it."

Demiurge dragged his sharp claw over the man's flesh, tearing it open casually as he went and sat down at his work desk. "I see, this bears rethinking. If only..." He looked up at the ceiling and groaned, "If only I could measure up to him, to see the peak of his brilliance!"

Vanysa shook her head, "Nobody admires you more than I, my wonderful music maker..." She strode across the room to where Demiurge sat with his fingers tapping anxiously on the desk, her long black hair bounced against her golden skin and off her black wings, and she laid a hand down on his, her talons digging in sharply to him, and as she did so, she leaned in close to his ear, "but you mustn't wear yourself to the bone with anxiety over this. He will not leave you. He does not leave those he values."

Demiurge slammed his other fist down and snarled, "Lord Ulbert left! My very creator abandoned me! Why else would he have done so unless I was displeasing to him?! If I disappointed even the one who made me... how can I ever hope to properly serve the one over him?"

Vanysa's eyes fluttered briefly, and she moved behind him, wrapping her slender golden arms around his front as he stared down at the desk.

"By doing your best, that's all he asks. Remember, I was just a peasant girl, a nothing that was less than nothing, he didn't even take the only thing I had to offer him, not even to throw that weak flesh to you for experimentation. But what did he do for me, because I was loyal to him beyond the brink of death?" Vanysa whispered into his ear, nibbling at the lobe as she sought to comfort the orphaned archdevil.

"Yes, you're right, you became your elevated self... useful, as well as faithful." Demiurge responded slowly and he began to look up as his brief moroseness began to pass.

"Right, he responds to loyalty, with loyalty. Mistakes are just part of learning, and you are the finest of his many fine servants. Work hard, but not with despair. He doesn't wish misery for the children of his friends, and that misery may itself make him unhappy." The demoness said, feeling the life starting to come back into her colleague.

She grinned lasciviously... "Now... if you've still got frustration to let out, well, it'll take awhile before that one is done over there."

"You know me very well." Demiurge remarked as he grabbed her arm and pulled her over the desk.

"Damn right I do." She giggled as she felt his claws rake over her, sighing in bliss as she offered herself up to her savage lover.

_...Crescent Lake..._

Entoma stayed with her all night long, mostly talking of other things, until dawn came and she pointed to the manuscript on the table. "Thank you for staying with me. Go ahead and take that back with you, it's still a good work, even if I don't... you know, I just want to pretend it never happened."

Entoma stood, put on her bug mask, touched her friend on the shoulder, and then quietly took up the writing off the table and left. When she was gone, Bertra went to the door of her shop, ensured the 'closed' sign was in place, that it was locked, and then went to bed. She had no idea how long she slept, but when she woke up, the sun was high in the sky again. She made herself something small to eat, drank, bathed, and returned to bed again. So it was for the next few days, until she forced herself to go downstairs and remove the 'closed' sign from her store and open the doors again.

She got behind the counter, ran through a quick tally of sales from the last day she was open, a task she'd put off before, she counted the coins and looked up to smile when she heard the bell to her ornate door with those winding and twisting branches carved over the front, from which books sprang like leaves, a design she liked a great deal.

Her smile went from genuine, to fragmented and forced, her breath quickened and her heartbeat faster. "Hi... Lovien. How are you?" She asked him politely.

He tried and failed to meet her eyes as he stepped closer to the counter. "Fine ah, sorry about before. I don't know what I was thinking, I was drunk, it's been a long time since I'd had anything to drink... or anyone to drink with, and I thought..."

Bertra forced her smile to hold more warmth than she thought, and she called upon her political skill to 'act the part', waving her hand dismissively, "Obviously it's fine, forget about it, I was drunk and I..." She could hardly believe her own words as they came out of her mouth, her eyes closed so she didn't have to see him as she kept the smile plastered on her face, and forgiveness she didn't really feel poured out as she pretended everything was fine.

"I've got things to do, so why don't you go ahead and browse the shop, see if there's anything you like." She tossed her hand off in the direction of the books. "I've got to catch up on my inventory for now, so you'll excuse me?"

She went back to counting coins and scribbling annotations for what she'd been paid for each sale. He followed her suggestion, and she ignored him as much as she could, though part of her ached to make him pay, the possibility of being exposed for who she was if she went too far, or was too obvious... the prospect of having to say 'why' she'd attacked him, the prospect of even acknowledging it was all too unpleasant.

'Just pretend it didn't happen, he's such a nice guy, and he's been through a lot, maybe it was just a big misunderstanding... maybe... if I just pretend it didn't happen, things can be normal again.' She thought to herself, and snapped out of her reverie when he put his book down on the counter. The sound of it striking the wood almost made her jump out of her skin for a moment, though he hadn't slapped it down hard.

"This one." He said, placing a hand on the cover, a story of the war as told through the eyes of one of Neia's earliest followers in Hoburns, who remained in service until the fall of Kami Miyako.

"Fine." She said as calmly as she could, and she forced her hand to remain still as he put the seven copper coins into her palm.

He looked like he wanted to say something, silence hung between them like a bad odor.

"Do I come back to work on the manuscript tonight?" He finally asked.

"No need." She said hastily and shook her head in denial, "I've already sent it off, everything is fine." She insisted, "So, I guess you don't need to waste your time coming by in the evening anymore."

"Oh but... ah, can I anyway? I'll bring dinner to celebrate the finish..." He suggested hesitantly, but flashed that winning smile at her. She glanced at the mutilated ear he still had, and as a rush of guilt ran over her, she quietly nodded.

'It was nothing, we just got carried away... that's all.' Bertra told herself as she accepted his request. He kept his smile on his face all the way out of the store.

As he left, Bertra forced her own smile to remain in place, though when he was gone, the warmth of her store, which had vanished when he entered, had not returned with his renewed absence.

'He apologized, I got what I wanted, I should give him another chance... right? I mean I would have been willing if I hadn't seen... ah what a mess' She thought, then added, 'I should have let Entoma eat him.'

_...Highway of Tears..._

Their rest at the waters was very, very brief. "Sleep." She said, the blood crusting on her face had chipped a bit, but if she cared about the filth or the smell, she gave no sign. Instead, she walked with eyes as dark as the night which engulfed them, back and forth over the length and breadth of the piled up sleeping minotaurs. They'd curled up close to one another, using each other's bodies as pillows and sharing comfort and warmth. Mu'Ulm, however, and Mu'Trieu, had not joined them.

"You don't sleep?" Mu'Ulm remarked.

"I don't need to. 'Endurance of Unlife' gives me undead endurance, the undead do not sleep, they do not tire, they do not rest. It is... useful." She said in the hollow, empty voice of a monster as she held his brown eyes in the void that only small red dots within, illuminated.

"Is that a common martial art for humans to develop?" He asked with the professional interest of a warrior, doing his best not to give way to the sense of dread that creeped up his spine as he looked down at her.

"No... I am a Black Paladin... the only one in the world, until recently. But the only one to have this, as far as I know. My lord is an undead god, and as his Paladin, my martial arts are all based on my faith in him." She responded, looking high up at her second in command.

"Going to prison, going to war, going to trial, ready to go hang... is there any length you won't go to?" Mu'Ulm scratched under his jaw in uncomfortable curiosity.

"I don't know. He's never found something that made me beg for him to rescind an order or made me disobey. If he does, I'll let you know." Neia answered, before turning when she felt a slight tug at her back, where she saw the little minotaur girl clinging.

"Yes, little one?" She asked and looked down at the tiny minotaur.

Mu'Trieu clung tight to Neia's cloak. "I can't sleep. I want a story."

Neia pursed her lips tight... "I'm sorry but... I have to keep watch. It's to keep you safe." She reached down and stroked the little minotaur snout.

Her grip tightened. "Story!" She insisted in the way only little girls could, and Neia's lethal heart softened a bit.

"Go ahead." Mu'Ulm suggested with a deep chuckle in his gut, "I'll keep watch."

"Alright..." Neia said and reached down to take Mu'Trieu's little hand, the tiny fingers curled around the bloodstained skin of the Demon of the West, and she led Neia near to where a group of child minotaurs lay curled in the center of a group of adults.

Neia sat down cross legged and let the little girl into her lap.

"Story!" The girl demanded again.

Neia smiled slightly, and said, "Once upon a time, there was a girl, she liked a boy, but... he didn't like her, because even though she was sweet, she looked scary."

"I don't think I like this story..." Mu'Trieu began, and Neia patted her head.

"Just be patient, if you don't like it when I'm done, I'll tell you another." The Black Paladin replied gently.

She heard the little girl huff in reluctant acceptance, and continued. "That was the pattern of her life, all through childhood, all through her early years, even when a monster came and destroyed her country, the only thing to change was how often she had to fight. But then after lots of struggle, and hardship, she met a girl. Someone strong, kind, wiser than herself, who looked into her eyes without fear, and she wasn't alone after that. She was happy, even in difficult times, but..." Neia went on and on, until she felt the little girl's body go slack and fall against Neia's bloodstained armor.

She wrapped her arms around the little minotaur, and slowly stood up, then put her down in the middle with the other children.

She watched the little chest rise and fall as Mu'Trieu breathed and rolled into a curled up posture against someone else.

"Maybe... I can do this." Neia said to herself and looked up to the sky where the stars looked back at her. "Please... father... god... I don't want to die. I want to hold my children... I want to 'have' children... if you can find a way to forgive me for putting you in the position where I have to endure all this, and for my selfish request... if there is some way that justice can be done... and I can still have this little taste of a real life... I beg you, let that be what happens. But if you cannot take this cup from me, then... help me to have the courage to drink it bravely to the last drop, so I don't shame you or my family by fear in my final hour."

The stars were silent but two pairs of eyes were watching as she said her prayer and clutched the pendant around her neck as the pain struck again and a few words she couldn't remember and no one could hear, poured out of her again.

She then approached Mu'Ulm, and pointed to the place where the others slept, "Get some rest, I've got it from here."

"Uh huh... you... take care of yourself, alright?" Mu'Ulm said reluctantly, and moved over to where others were snoring loudly, and quickly fell unconscious himself.

Back in Nazarick, two pairs of eyes were watching until then, who saw the void in her eyes and the red points that consumed her vibrant blue as if they didn't exist. They watched her lips move as she held her eyes up to the sky, like she knew she was being watched by heaven's ruler... and the mirror of remote viewing cut off. Albedo touched Ainz's shoulder with one hand, and put another under his chin to tilt his gaze up to her, it was a bold gesture, but one that lacked the usual fire, she met his red points with golden shining eyes, "I will not let them kill her. I promise you, Lord Ainz." She said, and walked out without another word to go and prepare herself for the following day of the trial.


	36. Sinners

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 35: Sinners

_...Highway of Tears...Devor Side..._

When morning came, Neia was still awake. "UP!" She shouted in the reverberating voice that had brought terror on the battlefield. Little ones wailed at the sound, and she instantly felt her skin tingle with a hint of regret at the frightful awakening.

"Sorry..." She uttered, chastened by the cries of children, and putting a less fearsome note into her voice, "But we have to move. You have two minutes to gather water, but then we go."

She waited as Mu'Trieu approached, her little hooves throwing up dust clouds inches into the air on the crude road. The peasants were quick to follow her directions, and Neia lifted the little minotaur onto the front of the undead horse, then mounted it herself just behind the little girl.

Mu'Ulm was quickly by her side, and when the horse began to move, those who moved too slowly in the waters, scrambled up the banks and fell in with their fellows.

"You could have given them more time." Mu'Ulm suggested, then followed by asking, "Why didn't you?"

"You're worried? Mr. Hornbreaking town burning bandit lord?" Neia asked with a blood crusted eyebrow raised up dubiously.

"That was necessary to survive. You want proud stories, find prosperous lands. There's no pride left in my country, you do what you have to in order to survive, or you don't survive." Mu'Ulm groused at her, but didn't meet her stern gaze.

Neia let that hang in the air, then gestured with her head turned to one side, back to the following rescuees. "Same here. Any extra time I give them, is an extra chance the Devor have to possibly pursue them. I told you, Mu'Ulm, I'm not a god, I'm not Kiril's Angel. I'm just Neia Baraja. A damn good soldier, a damn good speaker, and yes I have an impressive resume of blood... but I have no idea what they'll send. Golems? Magic casters of great power? An entire battalion? Scouts I can't detect? Even if I fight, even if I win against any of those, then we'll be throwing lives away here, lives I took the time to rescue. Taking a chance like that to have an extra two minutes of drinking time is reckless in the extreme. I won't make the same mistake twice." She said coldly as she thought of the stump of a man she delivered to Nazarick's hands for his part in the debacle at Wenmark.

'I hope he's still screaming. One day soon, Sudaj, I'll have to visit you.' She thought as her hate ran hot in her veins, and her grip tightened enough on the bones of the undead horse that a few cracks appeared.

Mu'Trieu craned her head back so that she was looking straight up at the bloody human that was taking her in, only to see her staring straight ahead with the implacability of a statue.

She snapped her head down and looked ahead, frightened briefly, 'She scared mama's killers. I want to do that.' So, in her own small way, she glared silently ahead until the fear was gone and her heartbeat slowed in her chest.

Mu'Ulm walked quietly beside his commander, the silence between them was somewhere between stern and amicable, and the peasants behind, picked up some measure of the tension and instinctively kept their distance.

So it went for the next three days, until they spotted the end of the forest and the open lands beyond. Each night she told Mu'Trieu a story ripped from the pages of her life, with none of them getting enough sleep, and if Neia slept at all, Mu'Ulm found himself wondering when it was.

He didn't see a hint of the bright blue eyes, but in the time with the peasants, he told them stories about how he'd met her, why she was in prison, what she was doing while there, everything he knew.

Occasionally on the long walks, the minotaurs would ask about the Sorcerer King she served, which always made her happy, and so they did it more frequently, with one approaching to ask a question, letting her speak, and then enjoying the warmth of her passionate voice as she told stories of her coming into his service, and her time in the war against the Slane Theocracy.

Sometimes she made them laugh, as when she spoke of her clumsiness with her wife before they were together. Sometimes she moved them to tears, such as with the story of the death of Gustav Montagne, who died a hero to save his soldiers from an impossible enemy, while on an impossible mission. Or the destruction of Wenmark, the wrath of the divine falling upon it for its many sins. But most of all, when she spoke of the war's later period, she held them transfixed with her explanations of the brutality that were inflicted by both sides of the conflict.

"...I won't excuse what I've done, I'll pay for it, one way or another, because I was in charge, I was responsible for what happened. The weakness was mine, and others paid the price. That is why weakness is the gravest sin, it births all others, not only for ourselves, but for those around us. Your country is an example of this, it is steeped in that deepest of sins, it abandoned you to die, where the strong would have had the power to act justly and protect you, or save you, or avenge you at the least. But you too are guilty of this sin. If you were strong, you would hold your children at home, not here on the wrong side of the border. You must grow strong, or there may not be another to come and save you next time." She stared hard at her listeners, her powerful evangelist voice grabbing at their fears and hopes and squeezing tight enough that it would never let go. "My country sinned, and it nearly died, I imitate my god's greatness, if only as a mere shadow, by coming for you. But if you do not grow strong, where will you be next time, if nobody comes for you?" She pointed at them for emphasis, the tiny red points of her eyes loomed like a mountain of doom as they imagined the next raid.

"You can't stay with us... at least for awhile?" An older peasant asked hopefully.

"No." Neia answered, with a regretful shake of her head, "I'm a prisoner still, and am going to turn myself in when we get back over the border. Mu'Ulm, I assume, has to go back as well, at least for a time. I can't stay. But..." She said optimistically, "I understand a temple of my lord was being built, if you send a request for a priest-teacher, then no doubt we can send at least one to each of your villages. Martial training is part of our worship and devotion, the pursuit of strength of all kinds, the betterment of ourselves, guides our lives. My instructors made a legendary army out of peasants, I wonder what they can do with you?" She proposed open endedly, and let them drift into imaginings of vengeance, her potent voice bringing thoughts to mind that had long lain dormant beneath the weight of hopelessness. Embers within the breasts of the minotaur peasants, began to spring to life.

The border grew closer and closer, and as it did, they grew steadily happier with every step, in the distance, they could hear the sound of minotaur lowing and wailing for the lost.

As the sound grew louder, little by little, a thought occurred to Neia. She looked over and up to Mu'Ulm, "I want to test them."

"How?" He asked doubtfully as he looked down at her from where he walked by her mount.

She gestured out to the open land in front of them, "They cry out for the lost to come home, thinking it can't be so. Here we are on the other side of the border, not far from being in sight of them. If they hear their loved ones crying out in return, in defiance of expectations... will they gather the courage needed to cross over... or won't they?"

Mu'Ulm looked thoughtful. "What if they do... or don't?"

"Then I'll know the extent of their sinfulness." She replied with a shrug, and looked down at Mu'Trieu, she patted the little girl's fur lightly. "What do you think, Mu'Treiu, will they come, or won't they? I'll make you a bet, if they do, I'll make sure you get two stories tonight, if they don't, you get only one, and don't ask for a second when I tell you to go to sleep."

Mu'Trieu thought that over with the intensity that little children brought to everything of great importance to them, and finally replied, "M'Kay, but if I only get one, I get to pick what kind of story!"

"Deal." Neia said and wrapped her arms around the little girl and clutched Mu'Trieu tight against her armor, staining her fur with flecks of blood as she did so.

Neia looked over her shoulder where the peasants walked behind, "Answer their cries." She said, "Tell them that you live."

The first to call out was a young bull male, barely a teenager, but he was joined by more and more, until the entire band was lowing and crying out, and silence answered them from the other side of the border.

Back and forth their wordless calls carried on the gentle breeze of the summer day, and Mu'Ulm looked hopefully ahead.

Minute after minute, until they saw distant tiny dots of minotaurs gathered together like a military formation, or a chorus as they heard the impossible, and answered it in turn. Not far from them, stood an 'actual' military formation, if Neia were right in judging the glinting of the light to be from steel weapons.

But nobody crossed the border.

Mu'Bin stood stock still as he watched the impossible unfold before his eyes, first it had begun with 'hearing' the impossible. Minotaur voices beyond the border, for hour after hour over the last few days all he'd heard were the wails of the bereaved as they walked the hated Highway of Tears.

The summer sun was high in the sky when all that changed, at first it was thought to be a mistake, when his fragment of the patrol, his little squad, heard it. First he thought it was mere imagination, but he felt the fur on his body start to stand on end. A nearby peasant stopped in midwail and their disbelieving eyes held one another, then came another. And those peasants who came close to the border, stopped in turn. A knot began to form, they turned and shouted to those distantly behind them, calling them over with hasty gestures, jumping, shouting, waving for them to come closer, and the knots grew of soldiers and peasants alike.

And they wailed as one chorus, and when the silence came, at first they thought themselves collectively deceived by worthless hopes, only to hear the faint sound beyond grow loud in return.

Unsure of what to do, the squads of soldiers that formed up the company, remained with the peasants and formed up near them, holding their weapons at the ready in the event it was some kind of trick or trap.

But it grew closer, and though they grew more on edge, among the peasants who were gathered nearby, there were occasionally those who shouted, "I know that voice! It can't be!"

And hesitant steps and stamping hooves began to grow in number, until at last... Mu'Bin saw dots appear, and though small at first, they grew.

"It's... it's a miracle... by the hair of Kiril's chin..." Mu'Bin whispered breathlessly, the wails grew louder and louder, and stragglers from farther up the road, who were only now hearing the noise and seeing the unexpected knots of their people gathered together and calling out... they hastily rushed to join them and find out what was happening.

Word spread wildly to the latecomers, and wild pointing and waving beyond the border as Minotaurs danced and stamped the earth for joy. "A miracle!" Was a common cry, and Mu'bin, did the one thing that he could think of to do.

"It's them... those two mad fools... those two divine angels... those heroes, those nightmares... whatever they are..." He uttered as he recognized the undead horse on which one of them rode.

They were looming larger now, and he felt as if he was beholding giants... the agents of god... so he fell to his knees, and prostrated himself before a servant of the true divine.

"Go, they're in front of you, no reason to keep them waiting." Neia said, and raising her hand into the air, she lowered it in front of her as if ordering a charge of soldiers. 'I much prefer this type of charge, to the usual sort.' She thought to herself as the peasants who could run, did so, storming over the distance that separated them from their loved ones. 'Disappointing that none had the courage to come closer, but... unsurprising. If weakness were water, they'd be swimming in a sea of it.' She pondered, and when Mu'Ulm looked down at her, she felt certain he was reading her very thoughts.

Mu'Trieu however, saw only the lost bet, "Awww, only one story." She pouted a bit, and Neia stroked the length of her snout.

"Don't worry, I'll make it a good one." She said sweetly, and went on to giving the little minotaur girl headpats, which seemed to make her happy as the horse trod behind the now more distant rescuees.

She watched from atop the horse as joyful reunions were had, as Minotaurs rubbed noses, embraced, and tossed little ones into the air to catch them, in a way that made Neia wonder if it was universal.

The soldiers however, behaved very differently as they saw the hundred and fiftyish peasants collide with loved ones that had been mourning them. They saw the white ax, the impossible armor, the massive shield of Mu'Ulm, and the human with the piercing eyes that looked impeccable as a mountain peak, and one by one they prostrated themselves.

They held that posture, weapons laid out in front of outstretched hands as if offering them over as a gift or sacrifice, right up to the moment that Neia and Mu'Ulm approached. The clip clop noise of the undead mount's hooves sounding vaguely minotaur like, it was easy, without looking, to think one was being approached by a pair of minotaur champions.

"Get up." Neia said in the reverberating voice of an evangelist. It wasn't a request, it was an order. An order Mu'Bin was halfway through obeying before he realized it.

He stared at the bloody demon woman, with the adorable minotaur girl seated in front of her snacking on some small thing, and at her side, a minotaur champion so tall that even though she was mounted, he would still have to look down at her to meet her eyes.

"I've done as I promised. Your people are back. You can arrest me now." Neia answered fatalistically, to gasps of horror from the rescued peasants and their families alike, and gasps of disbelief from the soldiers themselves. Mu'Ulm instinctively raised his shield and went for his ax as if to protect her, just as the gate opened nearby, stopping all action and sound in an instant.

_...Fortress of Last Home..._

Mu'Anik sighed with relief when the messenger arrived in his private office the night after the patrols had set out for the Highway of Tears. "Orders are to burn all correspondence and return to the capital at once." The brown clad minotaur said, and this, Mu'Anik was happy to do. He yanked open the drawer, burned anything he'd written about the human prisoner, and then swiftly packed a bag with what he'd need. Throwing loaves of bread and a few pieces of jerked meat, some cheap military grade wafers of flattened bread that was tougher than the loaves but more compact.

His dingy and dirty office meant even most of the food was far from clean, but while the brown clad messenger waited patiently with arms folded behind his back, Mu'Anik demonstrated more efficiency and care than he'd exercised in years of leadership to ensure he was ready to go in a timely fashion.

"OK, I'm ready to go, is there a wagon to get me back, or a carriage? I assume I'm needed quickly." Mu'Anik answered hastily, and the messenger nodded.

"Yes, we have to get you to where it is safest, assuming that one lives, we can't let her find you." And so he led the commander of 'Last Home' out into the darkness, a small wagon pulled by two large minotaurs was waiting around the exit they took, a hole in the wall Mu'Anik hadn't repaired, that was made on the first raid by the Devor that he'd lived through, back when he still had fire enough in him to fight back.

A brief wellspring of shame sprang up in his gut as he used their place of attack as a way to get out without being noticed, and so save himself. He got into the back of the little wagon, and the messenger sat across from him as the wagon started to move when he tapped the front a few times.

He pulled out a wineskin, and took a long swig, then held it out to Mu'Anik. "Ah, good stuff, it's a long ride, want?"

Mu'Anik huffed gratefully and took it, they passed the skin back and forth several times before he realized there was a problem. Every time he took it back, it was the same weight in his hand as when he'd handed it over to the messenger. 'He's not actually drinking it... what...' He began to wonder as his head spun, and he fell into black unconsciousness while the wagon bumped along.

He heard the wagon stop, and the messenger say, "Get the rope, we bind him first, we'll do the rest on site." Then Mu'Anik heard nothing else.

Not until he awoke to sunlight peeking down at him through the leaves of the evertree, and he pissed himself with fear when he realized he was beyond the border of the Minotaur Kingdom.

He tried to move, and his hands wouldn't move. He tried to get up, and found his feet were bound together and secured to a large, thick tree.

His eyes darted around frantically. The wagon wasn't visible, but the pushers were, and so was the messenger, he sat on a rock a few feet away, drinking from a white wineskin. "This one isn't tainted." He said as he offered a swig out to the confused Mu'Anik, who now hesitated and kept his lips closed when approached with the drink.

"Go on, everybody should have one last drink before they die." The messenger said almost sympathetically.

Mu'Anik reluctantly parted his lips and drank a swallow's worth before it was withdrawn. "It is good stuff, now, on to why you're here. You were given a simple job, get one damn human killed, not 'make her a hero' not, 'lose track of her' all you had to do was use her, let her lose her life, and let that be the end of it. Instead, because of 'your' failure, Mu'Fidelius now has to be concerned about the Sorcerer King thinking our kingdom was out to assassinate his daughter while she was in our care during her trial."

"Well... weren't we?!" Mu'Anik snapped, "I've been getting rid of the problems of the Kingdom for the royal family for years, this is what I get for it?" Mu'Anik's voice had a bitter fire in it, and a hint of dread, as he saw the pushers get out large hammers and start to approach.

"Well, yes we were, but... we can't have anyone 'knowing' that, and we definitely can't have anyone alive who could say that order came from the High King." The messenger's voice was conversational and banal as he took another swig of his wineskin.

"But just so you know, this isn't your reward for doing all those things for the Royal Family, this is what your reward is for 'failing' to do so, with such gusto that you could very well have been the cause of their being toppled from power. The reward of good work, is more work. The reward of shitty work, is no work." The Messenger answered and moved back to the rock from which he'd come, stretching out his legs and tapping his hooves idly on a broken stone.

Mu'Anik struggled in his bonds, "Fuck you! Fuck you all! I was loyal... this can't be it! This can't be! This can't be! I won't accept that it ends like this!" He thrashed and thrashed in his bonds.

"Oh, they're not going to kill you." The messenger replied. "Not at all, the animals of the forest will do that, if you simply 'die' you might be resurrected, but if your flesh and bones are consumed, so that there's nothing left of you, well you know what kind of predators live out here."

Mu'Anik' tried to scream as the cart pushers loomed over him, "Please!" He managed to get out, before he felt his jaw shatter, leaving only gurgling cries, before the next blow broke his left arm, and then the one after that, his right. They beat his limbs over and over, breaking each of them several times, and did not spare his hands, so that the misshapen things couldn't even 'grab' anything anymore. He thrashed ever more wildly, until he couldn't anymore, and he was a lump of broken, tenderized flesh and pain.

It was then that the messenger approached his groaning form, as he tried to cry for mercy, he felt, though could not see through eyes that were now swollen shut, the touch of a blade at his stomach. He tried to shrink away from it, but bound as he was, he could not. The messenger, clearly an expert at his craft, opened up the flesh and pulled out a piece of Mu'Anik's intestines, leaving them exposed to the air.

He wiped his hand clean on Mu'Anik's fur, and stood up. "You'll be dead in a few hours, the predators here are kinder than either we or the Beastmen in that way. They'll hear your cries, tear you open, and before long, there will be nothing left of you in this world but the fading memory of your name. Goodbye."

The messenger then snapped his fingers and pointed to the way out of the forest, leaving Mu'Anik still writhing where he lay. 'Think... think! You've got to get out of this! There has to be a way?!' He moaned and tried to stifle his cries, but he heard the growl close by, followed by another, and another.

'Not like this! Not like this!' He thought frantically and tried to let out a fierce roar that he no longer had within him, and then he felt the teeth, and the beasts of the evertree forest got their way, and he barely had time to beg for death, before they granted his wish, and Mu'Anik, died.


	37. An Offer He Can't Refuse

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 36: An Offer He Can't Refuse

_...Menowa..._

Nua dismounted easily from the cart. Hopping gracefully over the side without touching the barrier at the side. She landed on her toes and easily bounced, revealing a hint to Mu'Sula of the martial training she had surely received. She looked around idly and in a smooth motion now familiar to Mu'Sula, she reached into her pouch and took out a handful of coins, and per the usual agreement, he handed her three back. "Fascinating story... but how about your return trip? Will you be here long?" He asked with a covetous look down at her coin pouch.

"That depends on the farmer, but from the looks of things, I don't think I will be. But... where are the others?" She frowned slightly.

The land was not in the best of shape. Her lips pursed tight and turned down slightly at the corners.

"Others?" Mu'Sula asked with sudden curiosity.

"Yes, I sent invitations to all the others in the area that a great offer would be made to them, if only they showed up at this farmhouse on this day, around this time." She said without looking at him as she crouched down and ran her hands through the soil. Far from being the dark, rich soil she knew from her time in the Slane Theocracy, this was dry, parched, and frankly half dead.

"Mu'Sula...?" She said as she patted the ground and watched the dust come up.

"Yes, Lady Nua?" He asked as he felt the authority in her voice.

"Do you know anything about farming?" She asked with some gentleness in her tone.

"Not much, father was a merchant, mother, I don't know. Why do you ask?" He cocked his head and scratched just under his jaw as she went quiet after asking.

"I used to specialize in potions when I was a slave, I was really, really good at it. But in between those times, when I wasn't warming beds or mixing ingredients, the Slane Theocracy often used me for farm labor out in the fields, and you know, if you do something long enough, you get good at it. And as I look at this soil, I know two things." She stood up and began to dust off her hands as she looked around and noticed the scarcity of crops that were growing on the land, and what there was that was still growing, was not in the best of shape. Her elven eyes told her that the leaves were brittle, their pale color spoke of poor nutrition and perhaps limited water access, it wasn't hard for her to see the problems that this farm had, even within a few minutes looking.

"And?" He asked idly as he climbed up and sat in the cart, stretching out his long, thickly muscled legs.

"Well, the soil is bad, they're overusing it, and the water is insufficient, they're trying to grow more than they can. The best I can figure here is that the kingdom is trying to grow too much on too small a space, and they're destroying the soil." Nua turned and gave him a smile that looked somehow both sweet and sharp at once, with her eyes closed, her head cocked to one side, and her lips pursed with the corners turned up, it was more like a mask than a genuine expression.

"That means this'll be less expensive than I thought. We may have to go to a few other farms if nobody else showed up, but by this time tomorrow, all these farms around here will be mine, which is to say, I'll be putting them into temple care. When that happens... I was thinking..." She said with a kindly, gentle expression that somehow set Mu'Sula on edge.

"Yes...?" He asked as he sat up and looked at her with interest as he sensed opportunity rising.

Nua's smile deepend as she hopped back into the cart and stood over him. "How about you work for me full time? I could use a man with connections to both the legitimate and the illegitimate areas of the Minotaur Kingdom. You'll be extremely well paid every month, instead of scrounging day after day, and what's more..." She reached out and put one hand under his chin so that his eyes met hers, "you can finally stop plotting to kill me and rob my corpse, you'll make far, far more alive and serving my God, than you ever could 'trying' to kill one former slave servant and snatching the coins off her corpse."

Mu'Sula sputtered and scrambled up as he spat out the denials, she only stepped back from him, giving him space.

"Oh... Mu'Sula..." Nua shook her head sadly, "I'm an elf female who lived a life full of betrayal and abuse, that is easily five times longer than your entire life put together. When you go through that, you get good at spotting the nefarious, or you get dead. My life depended on me being able to read the people around me, and what their intentions were. It was obvious from the moment we met, that you were plotting to rob me, and probably kill me."

She gestured to the wagon seat where he'd popped to his feet, "Sit." She said, and did so herself to set him at ease, resting her forearms on her knees and closing her hands together between them.

He reluctantly obeyed, still stunned, she didn't wait for him to ask the obvious.

"Because you never asked where in the capital I was going, that meant it didn't matter, because you didn't plan on me reaching my destination. Because every time we stopped, your eyes were on the place I kept my coins, because you were the only healthy minotaur in that town, and there was no way you were staying that way on the profits of those meagre goods you were hauling when we met." Nua sighed as he looked at her with dismay, his large body went completely limp.

"It was pretty obvious that you wanted what I was carrying, your questions about my status, at best, could have only meant I'd be a hostage held for ransom, but all that would have meant is a later death for me, Black Justice does 'not' make bargains like that. Prisoner exchange... sure, but you'd have gotten nothing if you'd tried to sell me, and..." Her eyes glowed with golden light and she stared at him angrily, "I will never... ever be a captive again. You want to take me, you'd better kill me, a corpse is all you're getting. I'm free, and will never be bound again. Not by anyone." Nua's forceful demeanor was clear and to the point.

"So... you knew the whole time..." he gave in and his face fell, then it shot up to look at her again, "wait... then why are you offering me work?!"

Nua shrugged, "I'm used to working with evil, I lived surrounded by evil for most of my life, had to work under it, alongside it, and every ruler ever born has been evil to one degree or another, even the good ones. You're capable, smart, ambitious, and sensible enough not to act stupidly for short term gain. Plus..." She smiled slightly, in what almost could have been affection, "you like a good story, and I find that endearing. Once I realized you and I had that in common, I didn't want to kill you, I figured you'd be more of an asset anyway, but if that is going to work, we have to be frank with one another. All our cards are on the table, if anything happens to me, well I've already sent a letter to the Papal Estate. You'll be assumed to be responsible. And... remember, this is the same organization whose head burned down an entire city to kill six assassins, and another to avenge one dead whore. Even if the founder is killed, her wife is as dangerous as she is, and won't be in a forgiving mood for a good long time." Nua laid out the terms very starkly, and held his eyes on hers without flinching or blinking.

All he could do was listen as she went on.

"Besides that, I doubt you're good enough to kill me. I finished top of my class in self defense, that's why I got the explorer qualifier to come here. I don't like it, but I was an extremely dangerous demon, I can take any pain you could inflict in trying to kill me, and unlike when I was mere livestock, I learned how to give it right back. Questions?" Nua asked with a sweet girlish smile on her face that made Mu'Sula's mouth fall agape.

"I... ah... wait, am I being 'offered' a job, or told I have one?" Mu'Sula asked as he felt the rug being pulled out from under his hooves.

"Little of one, little of the other. I can't have you running around committing crimes after having been associated with His Majesty now, can I? If you do bad things, that might come back to me, and if it comes back to me, it comes back to my god, and it may hurt his reputation, and I'd kill you ten times over to prevent that. Simply put, Mu'Sula, you're being offered a choice between considerable wealth, comfort, and ease, for the rest of your life... or..." She shrugged, "People disappear all the time on the road, don't they? Didn't you say something like that to me when we first met, or thereabouts?"

Mu'Sula threw back his head, grabbed his horns in his hands, and laughed uproariously.

"Oh by god, Lady Nua, you should have been born a minotaur bandit. You've made me an offer I can't refuse, comfort and wealth or death..." He huffed hard and folded his arms over his legs, and hunched forward toward her.

"Fine, you're right about everything, all my connections for disposing of goods... or if you need it... people, are yours. That's why you chose the stories you did, isn't it, so that when it came time for this conversation, I'd know better than to fuck with you people, isn't it?" His friendly demeanor was gone, but she didn't flinch from the stone cold figure who now sat across from her.

She smiled sweet as poisoned pie right back at him. "Exactly. See, you are smart, live an honest life in service to my god, and you'll be safe from retribution, it'll be decades before this country becomes his, and by then you'll able to die fat, happy, and old, and if I should 'forget' all your past misdeeds in exchange for your faithful service the rest of the time... well, I'll be very busy for centuries to come."

"It's a bargain, then. We can work out the details of my full pay, but one thing I want thrown in at the outset. One thing I've wanted since I was a boy, give me that, and I'm yours for life." He replied calmly as he extended his hand.

"What is that?" Nua asked as she looked down at the hand outstretched in front of her.

"I want a nice house in a nice place, and... a secretary and one servant. You provide those, and good pay the rest of the time, and hell, crime is a necessity, not a hobby, I'll gladly give it up for a better option, and if that includes opening up the smugglers and so on to you, well, I get the feeling that however they think of it at the outset, they'll come away happier for it." Mu'Sula replied, and Nua stuck out her hand and shook on the bargain.

"Good choice." Nua said, "Now wait here," she glanced over and saw a number of minotaurs strolling over the land toward the farmhouse, "I've got work to do." She then hopped over the side gracefully, as Mu'Sula waved casually to her and replied...

"You got it... boss."

_...Crescent Lake..._

When Bertra opened the door to her shop after hours and admitted Lovien into it, she had a smile on her face that matched his own. He flashed his charismatic smile with his perfect teeth, and it seemed to light up the room, in his hand, he carried a wooden tray covered with a wooden lid.

"What's that?" She asked, her eyes darting to it cautiously.

"Dinner, as promised." He replied, and took it over to the table in the back and set it down. Her eyes went over to the spot on the wall where he'd pressed her, her fist clenched and her teeth went briefly on edge, but he saw none of that as he worked with the tray.

"This one is a real marvel." He said without looking at her, "It's a new item for the dwarf kingdom for keeping food warm away from the fire. It's got a pair of fire runes engraved in it in two places, but the board for the tray is actually slightly separated into three parts, and those have a rune for 'cold' so one spot is hot, and it's a few inches deep to hold plates or bowls, while the rest of the tray is kept cool, all connected by rods underneath that attach to these handles on the sides. Keeps the food warm and the tray won't burn, very clever, really." He set the lid aside and quickly laid out the plates so that they sat across from one another, along with a fork, spoon, and knife each.

"I'm afraid I didn't bring anything to drink... circumstances being what they were... it didn't seem appropriate." He said, a tinge of embarrassment coming over his face before he gestured to the seat.

She looked over the meal, it looked expensive. She sat down at the table opposite her guest, "You never really talk about your house much, you've said you're part of house Alu, but you didn't mention it was part of the wealthy class."

"I just assumed you knew who we were when I said it, you must not have lived anywhere near here before your time in... the North. House Alu has been an established part of elven nobility since before the Elf King rose to power." Lovien said in passing as he cut into his steak in sync with Bertra.

She blinked, startled, "No... no I wasn't anywhere near here. You might say it was so far away that it was... nothing like this." She looked toward the door that led out to her shop, and from her shop out into the great city.

They spoke for awhile as the sun set outside and the magic candles flared up between them. It became steadily easier, as he laughed and joked with her, she found it easier and easier to put that memory out of her mind, to blame the wine, to blame the intensity of emotion, to pretend... it never happened, or if it did, it didn't happen 'how' she remembered it, and to blame the wine again for her 'poor recollection' and to give more weight to his apology.

"I see..." He replied to something she'd said of her nonexistent past with a pleasant smile, "But... you didn't get table manners like that from a village."

She froze. 'Shit.' She thought, but smiled outwardly, "I'm amazed you noticed, but..." She flailed about for an excuse until she hit on something, and turned her face down, "I learned it in Kami Miyako."

He stiffened. "I'm sorry I asked. It's strange isn't it... how easily we've all decided the same thing."

"I don't understand?" She asked him as she dipped her bread into the thick, rich stew that sat beside her plate. The fragrant juices of the meat hit her nostrils like sweet perfume as she breathed it in, whoever had prepared this for him had been a master of kitchen craft.

"Well, since things ended and people started coming home, if you say, 'I learned it in Kami Miyako' we all immediately shut up, we know not to ask about it, it makes sense, we want to forget that terrible time, those terrible things... pretend they never happened. But then... you have others, like you, like me... who try to preserve that history. If we don't write down what happened, then one day nobody will remember, people may even deny it because... well. why didn't anyone write about it, if it was so widespread? But to write about it, to speak about it, is to make sure we don't forget, because we can't forget what happened there. It's a disservice to everyone who suffered there and didn't live to say anything, who can't speak up anymore." He said passionately as he cleaned the last of his stew from his bowl.

Bertra nodded along with him every step of the way, "You're right, of course, Lovien, that's why I've worked hard to record these things, though I'm also glad in particular that there's a chance of helping His Majesty's daughter."

"Yes... yes, there is that." He said, and then asked, "I hope you don't mind but... that meal was quite good, and now I'm thirsty, and I didn't bring anything, do you maybe... have any wine?"

The sound of the bottle falling to the floor struck her mind like a clap of thunder, but she covered it, 'Of course, that was just a mistake, he didn't really mean for things to go that far before. Just one should be fine.' She thought as she stood up.

"Of course, I'll be just a moment." Bertra stood and moved to the small kitchen area where she kept a few bottles of decent wine and a few cups for drinking, she took two cups and held them upside down in two fingers as she put the black bottle under her arm and returned. She found when she returned, he'd changed seats so that he'd be next to her.

'It's only natural to sit next to someone, it's no problem.' She thought, and set the cups down and opened the bottle. She poured one for each of them, the dark liquid sloshed slowly into the carved stone cups, and she set the bottle aside.

"To pleasant days and nights from here on out." He said, and held out the cup, she echoed the toast, and they drank. "You know," he said, "I've been giving it some thought, I was thinking I'd put some of my money to good use, open up a chain of bookstores. I had originally thought to open my own, but I like what you've accomplished with what you have here. Maybe I should invest... in you." He said halfway through his second cup.

Something tingled in the back of Bertra's mind, a forgotten sense, not needed in a very long time, she refilled his cup when he asked it of her, and had another for herself.

After their fourth cup from the bottle, she acknowledged, "Not exactly the best, but..." She shrugged, "I'm just a bookshop proprietor, you want better, go to Queen Zesshi."

Lovien smiled, his eyes sparkled in the candle light as if they'd captured the flame. "It's not the quality of the wine, it's the quality of the company." He said softly.

Bertra felt a sudden presence on her thigh and looked down, his hand was there, she looked up, opened her mouth to speak, and then Lovien's lips were on her own and his cup was knocked to the floor, the remaining wine ran down with a loud dripping and the cup rolled away out of reach as she felt his tongue engage hers, his hand slid up her thigh and reached for her netherlips with hungry fingers as his other hand touched her sensitive ear, sending shivers and shockwaves of sensation through her that she both loved, and hated. She managed to break for a moment to say, "Lovien...… no...… I'm not...…"

She started to use her greater strength to force him back, uncoordinated as she was from drinking, he seemed frantic...… urgent, his eyes were glassed over, "I know you need this, he said urgently, why else would you have me over...… drink with me again...… don't worry...… it'll feel good, I'll 'protect' the life you've made here...…"

The implication wasn't lost on her, that he could use his position to harm it just as easily, she was politician enough to know that his promise of favor was a promise of destruction if she wasn't cooperative.

'He's an important noble here... I don't have anyone I can go to... and who would believe me anyway? Entoma... maybe, but I can't let her just kill him, not with him being who he is in this country...? Zesshi? She knows who I am, she might be leaving me alone because I helped her people once, but I doubt she'll ever forget what I said in my office... and what about the life I've built here? My business? He might destroy all that... I don't want to lose everything again! I worked so hard for it all! Even if I'm nothing but a foreigner in a foreign land, I don't want to give this place up! There's no other home for me anymore! If I kill him... or hurt him myself... Zesshi might even think I was just setting him up... and who would blame her for thinking that...?!'

When he forced the kiss again, she relaxed herself until he broke it, taking the end of her resistance as her consent, he whispered into her other ear as he touched her sensitive body's most sensitive places, "You're wise, to stick by me... to invite me into your home... invite me... into you, just relax, I can feel how you want it." He covered her lips again and Bertra closed her eyes to just get it over with. 'I hope he finishes soon...…' She thought as she lay limp for him to do what he wanted.


	38. Chaos

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 37: Chaos

_...City of Newgrand...Beastman Kingdom..._

King Rargnan watched with astonishment as for the first time in living or written memory, dragons soared over Beastman territory. They sailed through the air like birds of prey, their roars split the sky as they alerted others to their coming, if any were daft enough to have missed the clear sight above.

They slowly circled around the rebuilt and renamed capital city, and from his palace balcony he felt a profound sense of humility run through his veins. For a proud tigerman, it was a rare thing to be humbled, but as he leaned on the balcony rail and watched them slowly come to ground, lightly dropping their massive cargos, what he'd been told were called 'Dragon's Lunchboxes' it was impossible for him to feel too proud.

"Has it really been this long?" He wondered out loud. He looked down at the ground of his capital city, his gaze lingered on the smooth stone, down below, in the depths, tens of thousands of bodies of the former residents lay trapped where the Sorcerer King had opened up the ground beneath their feet, he recalled the human girl, the mad blonde woman who giggled as she somehow worked out, and told him, 'Since they got water down there, an bodies ta eat, they'd prolly live for weeks er months, floatin in the dark, scramblin fer rotted'n water logged meat... s'watcha get, an yer lucky it ain't worse... ahd'a kilt all of yah... make nice skins...' She'd cackled with blood chilling laughter, not because she was a threat, but because his servant at the time had meant it to her core. He shuddered briefly, brief correspondence mentioned her sometimes.

But more than the destruction ran through his mind as he looked out, far beyond the low walls of the city, he could see vibrant green of the rolling hills and open plains, in the distance, forests were full of life, and even from where he stood, he could hear the great falls and raging waters of the distant river as the wind carried the sound to his tigerman ears. "He did that too... he destroyed us, he remade us, and he spared those of us who survived his wrath... there are worse ends than this. And now..." His eyes went back to the distant dragons, the great terrors of the skies landed one by one, with a single rider each who would dismount and open the 'lunchboxes' and allow passengers to exit, or trade goods to be removed, it was an efficient system.

He walked over the smooth stone floor of his wide halls, leaving his chambers before the sun rose fully over the horizon, and went to his throne room where the delegates would no doubt present themselves soon enough.

He was not disappointed, and for the first time in history, dwarves, humans, and elves knelt in peace before the beastman throne, with not one ounce of fear in their hearts. All wore the same dress, attire he couldn't have missed.

"You, the merchants of Black Justice are welcome here in Newgrand, I hope you find my capital pleasing, and know that the full hospitality of my house is at your disposal." He placed his striped orange and black hand over his chest and inclined his head to them politely.

"Of course, thank you, Your Majesty, for your kind welcome, we will be staying for the day to acquire additional goods here before we move farther east, I assume you know of our mission?" The human asked with the force and conviction that suggested to Rargnan that he might have had priestly training.

He responded with as much kingly dignity as he could manage. Briefly recalling the vast hours of practice he'd spent in front of a mirror trying different poses and gestures and tones to ensure he always presented a noble bearing. 'I wonder if anybody else ever had to do that? No, not a chance. I'll never get used to this.' He'd thought ten thousand times, but managed to express himself well enough when he responded by saying in his most noble voice, "I do, I received communication from the Mute Merchant of the West well in advance, good Tinamoc is going above and beyond to support your mission, and so will I. My merchants were informed of your arrival when the dragons were first sighted, and they'll be establishing a large bazarre in the great square expressly for your patronage, the entire area is blocked off for today only. Buy what you need, and I am putting a coin of my face on it to back your efforts. Every merchant you'll encounter was paid up front for a twenty percent discount, a token of goodwill to you, and to the daughter of our common god. If it please you, we have a temple near the city square where you may pay your respects and meditate on the path to success before you leave."

"My lord is generous, we thank you for your hospitality, if I may ask your humble indulgence, we would appreciate a guide for the day, before we depart, that way we can maximize the productive use of our time." The human who was evidently the leader of the trade mission, requested politely.

Rargnan looked closer at him, young, he suspected, but keen azure eyes that took in everything around him. Wavy brown hair bound close to the head which fell over his shoulder to hang in front of him. A moderate build for a human, but there was muscle and sinew rather than flab beneath the black uniform.

"Of course, will the dragons be remaining with you?" Rargnan asked with eager curiosity.

The human shook his head, "Unfortunately, no Sire. They're returning west, we'll be buying wagons here, and we brought scrolls to raise undead horses to pull them. We'll be departing first thing in the morning, after everything is ready. We'll be sleeping in shifts on our wagons, and use the undead mounts to go all night long until we reach our destination. Time is of the essence, if we're to matter at all."

"I see, well it is a shame you can't linger and see more of what our country has accomplished under His Majesty but... needs must be what they are, and... I wish you luck. I met her once, you know." Rargnan mused as he remembered the Forton Conference.

"Y-You did?" The human seemed flummoxed for the first time, and Rargnan savored the moment.

"I did." He answered with a nod, and told the story, finishing by saying, "She was... truly terrifying, but... also remarkable. Had she been born to the kingdom of beastmen, she would be seated on my throne, instead of me. I do not envy my royal brother, Ard Rhi Mu'Fidelius, in his task of putting her on trial. I just hope he is wise enough to not play games or cheat His Majesty in a way that threatens her. That would not end well."

The merchant guests shared a collective shudder along with Rargnan as they pondered the wrath of the Sorcerer King in such an instance.

"But I ramble, please rise, one of my guards will escort you through the city, and I'll send one of my children as your personal guide to meet you while you ensure your goods are properly stored, it would be good for them to learn more of the wider world than life in Newgrand alone can teach them." Rargnan said and waved a bearman away from the walls to go stand behind them.

They stood, bowed, and rendered the Black Justice salute, as they did so, he noted that the symbols of choice on their chests were a balanced scale, an open palm, and a single wide open eye. He rendered the same in return while seated on his throne, and as they backed out and departed, Rargnan stroked his furry jaw and rapped the fingers of his other hand on his throne. 'I wonder if they'll really have an impact out there, do they really think they can influence the outcome of the pope's trial by way of trade? They must think so for some reason... perhaps I should study more on this subject.' He thought to himself, then rose and with a pair of guards behind him, he went to his library.

_...Crescent Lake..._

'How could this possibly be happening?' Bertra wondered as she tried to ignore the changing pace of the man holding her hips as she lay limp on the floor waiting for it to be over. A moment later, she felt it end and a groan of satisfaction came from Lovien. He lowered himself to her and kissed her passionately, she did nothing to respond, but if he noticed that, or anything else, he gave no sign.

"You were great..." he finally said as his tongue left her mouth and he began to get up, slowly and contentedly, "Thank you, I've got a meeting tomorrow with the Queen and her council, it'll be, a big land deal, so I really shouldn't stay, but don't worry," he caressed her face, starting at the tip of her right ear and tracing it all the way over to her cheek, she turned her face away, "None of it will be used to build anything that compete with anything your shop does. I take... good care of the ones I like." He smiled charmingly down at her as she lay there, numbly, too numb to even draw her legs together, she managed a small, quiet series of rapid nods as he put his pants back on. He reached briefly for the tray he'd brought, then pulled his hand back, "No, it's not much, but it is rare, keep it as my gift to you, from one good friend to another."

He didn't notice her eyes shut tight enough to wrinkle as he left her there to try to rise alone. She slowly rolled over onto her stomach, her right hand grasped a few times for purchase on something, she kept her eyes shut, but that big charming smile wouldn't vanish from sight.

"H-How... why?" She barely knew what she was asking as she went upstairs to her room and drew a bath. 'Disgusting...' She thought as she reached down to touch the slimey reminder of what he'd done and wipe it from her thigh, but she wasn't sure in that moment if she meant it, him, or herself. 'Clean... I just want to be clean again...' Bertra thought as the water roared like thunder as the tub filled with water hot enough she was sure she'd need a healing potion to make herself better afterward.

"Bastard." She said through gritted teeth as she cut off the water and slipped into the now filled tub, she reached for a cloth and began to scrub everything raw, every part of her he'd touched, she didn't even notice when she started crying, though if she had to guess, it would have been when she tried to get him 'out' of her.

She scrubbed till her arms were sore and the burning heat of the water began to lessen. She then lay limp with her arms spread out and stared up at nothing. 'Did I do something? Was it my fault for having wine with him after last time? I invited him into my home, I let him sit next to me... god, the way he talked about how he could... 'help' me...' She wanted pain, because that would distract her from the way she felt right then, his promise of 'help' that she knew was more a promise of harm, made her feel like a whore that had traded herself for a few extra coins in her pocket.

She let her head fall to one side and looked over at the door, "Entoma... wish you were here, but I can't talk to you about this... I can't tell anybody about this... they'll think I'm just trying to extort him. Or they'll think... they'll think I'm a pawn from some other noble trying to sabotage him or hurt his good name." She talked to nothing but the empty air and let her thoughts wander pointlessly as she tried to think of anything but the last few hours.

"Zesshi... if you ever did want revenge on me for my indifference then... you have it now... even if you never know it..." She whispered and looked down at the beautiful body the Sorcerer King had given her, the litheness and strength of a young elf woman had proved a source of fascination to her when she'd first settled down, a reminder of the lost youth of her humanity and the vigor she'd had then.

Her thoughts wandered like that until she finally dragged herself out of the tub, and staggered to the bed, the sound of water dripping behind her was the only company she kept as she fell onto the bed and drifted off to a slumber she didn't, in that moment, ever want to wake up from.

When she did wake up, it was to the sound of birds chirping, she slowly rose, dressed slowly in a pair of brown pants and a green shirt of good quality fabric, she put on a pair of low black boots, then went downstairs and ate a small meal of stew that she didn't taste or even remember making. That was when she saw his... 'gift' that interesting item from the Dwarves.

She reached out and touched it, 'Did all that... really happen?' That had been her first thought when she woke up naked in her bed. But here was the proof. She picked it up, and with an anguished cry smashed it against the wall, again, and again, and again she swung it, breaking the ornately crafted item into pieces until there was nothing of it left that was long enough to swing. It left her breathing hard from anger, at herself, at him, at everything. And she stood there, clenching her fists and holding the last vile broken piece in her hand, before she let it drop to the floor with a clatter that reminded her of the spilled wine that she hadn't cleaned up the night before.

She looked down at the dark stain on the bright pale wood that shone in the daylight that streamed through the windows of her home, and set to cleaning it all up. It must have been an hour before she was done, even though it should only have taken a moment or two of wiping the spot down, no matter how many times she ran the cloth over the stain, the wood still looked stained to her eyes.

She wiped her face clean again after she disposed of the cloth, and threw away the cups. 'I never want to see them again...' She thought as they disappeared into the small clay bin she used to catch things to be disposed of. For good measure, she went over to the tattered remnants of her clothing, the fine cloth was torn in places, and she fell to her knees and began to keen for it.

'I bought this... I bought this with the first coins I earned here... now look at it... this wasn't just something to tear up... you bastard... you bastard...' She kept her thoughts in her head, unable to speak through the keening voice as she clutched the ruined clothing he'd torn in several places as he'd undressed her.

When she finally got control of herself, she washed her face yet again, and, unable to dispose of that too, she slowly walked to the front of her proudly named 'Brighter Days Book Shop' and opened the door.

The sun hit her full in the face and glinted off her golden hair, she forced herself to behave pleasantly, waving to her neighbors as she passed them, and making her way to the public square where the trial was already ongoing.

It had drawn an enormous crowd, it always did, while in most places, Bertra knew that the crowd was at least there in part because of the sheer novelty and incredible complexity of the magics involved to project it all to so many places at once. 'It is impressive, I'll admit.' She thought without a hint of reluctance, everything after all, had proved impressive about the Sorcerer King. 'If I... If I begged for an audience... would he listen?' She wondered briefly, then put the thought aside. 'Even if he did, he's a king, I can't take up his time like this, he's done more for me than I deserved in the first place.'

Raymond was on the stand, she smiled proudly up at her long time comrade, 'If he were here, if he knew I lived, or perhaps he does, but if he were here, he'd listen, he'd believe me.' It was a pleasant thought, to know that somewhere in the world, there was someone who would believe her, who would listen to her, the fact that one of those was a monster and the other was set for trial himself was irrelevant to that fact.

She gasped with shock when she saw the elf girl shout his name, the view shifted to the disrupting person, and Bertra's mouth fell open as she recognized the little elf woman from his manor, now fit, toned, and confident enough to shout down a trial in front of kingdoms. Bertra managed a winsome smile in spite of everything, as golden hair streamed behind the girl as she dashed down the stairs like an antelope and dove into the body of the former Cardinal.

Confusion reigned over everything in the square as the elves of Crescent Lake watched one of their own, clung to a human, a human that had been leading the nation that oppressed them, no less. Buzzing conversation went everywhere, and Betra did her best to look as confused as everybody else, while inside, despite the numbness that consumed her own heart, she felt a sense of peace for her friend and comrade.

"She must have been a lover of his..." She heard from a table over.

"Was she a slave he mind controlled...?" She heard from another.

"No, she's wearing the clothing of the Black Justice priesthood, right down to armor, couldn't be, they'd have removed a curse or mind control, but how does she know 'that'?" Someone else replied.

Bertra listened as the rumor mill began to buzz around her until the trial resumed and the disruption calmed down.

She waited through the rest of it and got up, turning to walk away, she caught a glimpse out of the corner of her eye at the far end of the square, Queen Zesshi was walking with her vampire advisors and the rest of her retinue, including... she felt sick. 'Lovien...' She thought, watching unnoticed for a moment as he told some joke that made Queen Zesshi laugh and pointed to a nearby building, no doubt something he wanted to buy, he was dressed far more richly than usual, with gold embroidery over his clothing that, she had no doubt, was real gold thread.

Bertra lowered her gaze, and hurried out of the square before she was seen, trying desperately hard to move quickly without running, and telling herself, 'He's not driving me away. He's not... he's not...'

She went back to her shop, flipped the sign to open, and put herself behind the counter and put a fake smile on her face.

The bell rang as the door opened, "Welcome to Brighter Days Book Shop!" She said in the pleasant way she usually did, shocking herself by her own ability to pretend, and waved to her numerous long shelves of books, "Please let me know if I can help you find anything." She added.

"Hiya Bertra!" A mountain of an elf said as he ducked under the doorway to avoid hitting his head and entered. A deep voice came from the thick muscled man in front of her, but a boyish grin and a baby face ruined any intimidation factor he might have had. No doubt was in her mind about who his father was, as some of the elf King's children did turn out to be musclebound walls of meat like him. Not many, but a few.

"Hi Soren, are you looking for anything special today?" She asked.

"Just wondering if my order has come in yet." He replied, then looked sheepish, "Oh... sorry, forgot to wipe my feet out there." He said as he noticed the dirt he'd tracked in.

Bertra waved it away, "Soren, you helped put this place together, this shop wouldn't exist if you hadn't built it, and you and your team unloaded more books and boxes than I had any right to ask, no way I'm going to get upset about a little dirt, besides, you work in dirty conditions. If I required every one of my customers to have a bath before coming here, the bathhouses would do great business, but me? Not so much. No your order hasn't come in yet, have you 'seen' any dragons delivering goods? No, no you haven't. But..." She raised a finger as his face looked crestfallen.

"I did find something else you might like, you know, something to tide you over, and I set it aside just for you." She grinned and reached under the counter and pulled a book out and craning her neck to look up at the seven foot tall elf, she held up a thick book to him, which he took gingerly between meaty fingers.

"The Great Builders: God Edition" He read the title, "How did you get this... how did you know I'd like this?!" He exclaimed with boyish happiness.

It was hard not to smile with Soren, "Well, you built more buildings around Crescent Lake than any other master builders in your guild, so it wasn't hard to work out that you'd take an interest. As for how... well, I have my ways, and you just benefit from them this time." She put on a playful smile, and if she stayed a little farther back from him than she usually did, he didn't notice.

"Thank you, I just can't believe the knowledge in some of these books, techniques I'd never imagined, never heard of... you're just, you're the best, Bertra." He said and reached into the pouch at his side to take out the money for it.

"Why so eager for that other book, anyway?" She asked as she held out her hand from beyond the counter.

"Oh that? Well I heard it had some good stuff in it, things that might help me in my next contract, if I'm lucky that is, see Lovien of House Alu is considering hiring me and my crew for his next big build."

Her face paled and as the coins fell from his hand toward her palm, she darted her hand away, the coins scattered everywhere.

"I'm sorry, I... I don't know what came over me!" She said anxiously as she crouched behind the counter, while he got down in front of it and put the coins up for her to take.

"It's alright, just an accident." Soren answered as he got up.

"It'll be a game changing contract for us if we get it." His face looked ecstatic, but then it suddenly fell, "Got to be honest with ya Bertra... I needed this. Yeah we build a lot, but the profits haven't been big. The big projects have the big margins, and most of my work has been smaller stuff, individual homes and the like. The knowledge in books like these often gives me a competitive edge."

"I see, I see." She said as she picked up the last coin from the floor, "Well best of luck to you then." She said, effectively ending the conversation as he waved goodbye, wished her well, and ducked under the door frame again to walk out.

She stared down at the coins, as if daring them to speak. 'No, it doesn't matter that it'll help him, it'll also help a friend of mine. A regular...' She closed her eyes tight and snatched up the money and tossed it into the till so she didn't have to see it, then plastered the smile back on her face again as she welcomed the next visitor.

So it went, and she remained open to catch the post trial crowd as people came in to buy or rent books both new and used alike.

For a while, she was so busy that she was able to forget the previous evening, to act like it really didn't happen, though she often felt like a doll animated by magic, just going numbly and thoughtlessly through the motions of her existence. Eventually however, it came time to close the shop, and she managed a contented exhale and picked up a box behind her and carried it to the nearest shelf. She started restocking previous purchases and setting out new items, and wrapped up 'the business of her business' without incident.

She then went to the door, locked it, and then froze when she saw Lovien's face on the other side of the glass, the charming smile on his chiseled face, "Hi, I just wanted to come say hello, see how you were doing!" He said, just loud enough for sound to carry through the space between them.

Bertra's lips pursed tight and she froze as she saw and heard the handle turn, the door was locked, but that didn't stop her heart from quickening in her breast. 'Get rid of him.' She thought to herself, and unlocked the door briefly, he pushed it lightly, but it stopped at her foot.

She put her face to the gap, "Sorry, I'm really worn out." She said, and his grin became lewd.

"I'll bet." He replied wickedly.

A wave of shame came over her and she hated that she began the conversation by apologizing, and for giving him the opening to say what he did.

"I mean it, I need sleep, I can't talk now, Lovien." Bertra said forcefully.

He looked surprised, his lips parting as if he couldn't believe it, and she threw him off. "Oh, ah, well it's fine. I'll come by another day, just wanted to say thank you again, it was a great evening, and I hope we can do it again sometime."

"I'll be busy." Bertra replied immediately.

"I didn't say when..." He answered.

"I'll be busy." She reiterated.

"Oh, well, I'll make time for you later, don't worry about it." He said as that cocky little smile that brought out a dimple in his cheek returned.

"Fine, whatever but," she yawned loudly, "for now I really need to get some rest."

"OK, I guess we wouldn't rest much if I came in." He chuckled at his ribald joke and she smiled weakly as she pushed the door closed and locked it, hard enough that the catch echoed.

She walked away from the conversation wanting to take another hot bath, to scrub her ears where the sound of his voice had echoed, but instead she forced herself to go straight to bed again.

She didn't see him again for a few days, though the regulars of her shop were welcome sights as she tried to let her memory of what she'd come to think of as 'the incident' to trivialize it in her own mind, be forgotten.

The book clubs and writing groups were a favorite distraction, until she entered the big writing area that also served as her dining room, holding a tray of tea for her guests, and saw him sitting at the table.

It took everything she had not to drop it when she saw him beaming at her and holding a quill and some papers. She looked around at the expectant faces of her friends and neighbors, and kept her face neutral as she laid out the teacups in front of them, though as she laid a cup in front of him... 'serving' him tea, her hand shook enough that some of the tea spilled.

"It's alright." He said before she could apologize, and took up a cloth and wiped it up himself.

The others gathered at the table looked at him with admiring eyes, a noble that cleaned up after himself, who wasn't too good to clean up a spill in front of him, who would sit for tea with average people to learn something new... was a rare thing. A few of the elven women at the table looked at him with more than platonic admiration, with his only blemish, his one still mutilated ear, a badge of honor for having lived through captivity in the Slane Theocracy.

Bertra avoided looking at it, 'If he knew what I was, who I was...' She cut that line of thought off, and began to talk about how to write their story in their own voices. To avoid exaggeration because this is meant to be a historical record. "Don't be ashamed of anything you write down about what happened, you didn't ask for that, and any shame there is, falls to the ones who made you endure what they did. Have the courage to speak your mind, if you are uncomfortable putting your own name down, then use a pen name, I'll do all I can to ensure that nobody forgets that villains lived, and did wrong. Letting them be forgotten, is letting them get away with it. I'll be proofing everything along the way, so please ask for help as much or as often as you need it."

She then sat at the head of the table, acutely aware that Lovien was close by, he didn't seem to notice as he scribbled away on the paper with the same impressive rapidity as he always did.

Most of the table struggled, hunched over their documents and trying to grasp for words, but as his quill flew over paper, and page after page was slapped down audibly as if it were meant to be a public boast, the rest of the table stopped to watch.

She slid them over to herself one by one, using only one finger so that she wouldn't risk touching what he touched, and taking out her quill with the magic red ink, she began to make corrections, though there were very few at all to be made.

Finally though, she had to ask, "Lovien, you wrote your manuscript already, whose story is this?"

His face, which had been profoundly grave and serious, turned bitter, and he reached up with one hand to touch his mutilated ear. "The one who this is in memory of. I knew everything about that one... someone... someone should tell her story."

That made her go quiet, "I... I see, I didn't mean to pry, I'll get back to editing." Bertra said sympathetically and went back to proofing his work while the rest of the table lingered briefly into memories of their own, and Lovien wrote like a man possessed, finishing ten or twenty times the amount of material that the others did.

"Go ahead and do theirs first, mine will take longer." He said generously, and waved a hand in a lordly manner.

Admiration redoubled as it seemed to the others as if he were giving up his place in line for them, and a wave of anxiety hit Bertra, which she hid to avoid being rude.

She got to through the rest of their documents quickly enough, and they trickled out until she was alone with him again.

"You weren't kidding about being busy." He said after she was quiet for a few minutes as she went over what he wrote.

"Mhmm, tell you what, this will take awhile, go ahead and go, and I'll finish it up tomorrow while things are slow, it's getting late, and I'd like to sleep." She tried to keep her voice neutral, but the memory of him laughing with the Queen the morning after, wouldn't leave her.

She felt his hand on her thigh. "I'd like to thank you for helping Soren out, he showed me the book he got from you and he said he can meet all my needs under budget and on time. I was hesitant to hire him at first, since most of his work was on smaller projects than this." She felt a chill run up her spine.

"Lovien... No." She said as her heartbeat began to pound. 'Snap his neck... you can do that easily. But you can't explain 'why' you did it...' She thought about the admiring looks he'd gotten from the others.

"Of course, not all needs can be met with construction contracts..." He ignored her protest and moved his hand further up her thigh, leaving her grateful she'd worn pants instead of a dress.

"And I've missed you." He added as he breathed out close to her sensitive elven ears, sending a shockwave of sensation through her body. She froze, and he took that as permission to go farther, sliding his hand over her crotch.

"Lovien... stop." She breathed out.

"You stick with me, and I'll make sure Soren gets every big contract in this city, the Queen listens to me since nobody knows this business like I do." He said as he began to tug at the string that held her pants closed. "And because I like you... I'll make sure I don't open any business that might 'ruin' you."

She felt the implied threat behind his offer, to ruin the one who built her business, to ruin 'her' business. It made her hesitate, and she felt his hand on her breast.

Bitterness ran like a stampede through her heart and all the way through her mind. "In the bed this time." He said, and took her in his arms in what he no doubt felt was romantic, he forced his lips to hers, capturing them as he carried her to the stairs.

She swallowed hard as she did as he said, pointing out the bedroom door. When they were alone, and her clothes were cast off to the floor, and she struggled to understand why it was happening to her, she made a choice, the only choice she could, insomuch as she could convince herself it wasn't a farce to call it that. "Help me, and help him, and... I'll be grateful." She said, and pulled Lovien onto her.

He smiled over her face, "I knew you understood things... you're a very smart one." He said as he sighed with pleasure as he entered her.

It was not a restful sleep later, when she closed her eyes knowing he was still beside her, there was no sleep at all, though she pretended there was, hating her elven ears as she heard him sigh and felt him in her on the two occasions he awoke, and wanted her again. At first as she squeezed her eyes shut, she thought 'If I just don't wake up, he won't...' only to cut that thought off when he did anyway.

She listened to him snore lightly beside her, and remained still all through the night, until the sun broke through the window in the morning, and he made her roll onto her back, kissed her. "You were amazing, insatiable even, I can't believe you wanted me that much." He stroked her breast once and slid out of the other side of the bed. He stretched out his lithe, fit form, one that no doubt many a woman pined for.

'Why me...? Why ME?!' She screamed inside her head, cursing herself and pretending to roll over and go back to sleep until her sharp senses finally heard the faint tinkle of the bell to the front of her shop that told her he was gone.

'Brighter Days Book Shop' was closed for the rest of that day as Bertra went from scrubbing herself raw in the bath, and back to bed, after disposing of the sheets he'd taken her on.

She was closed the next day too. And the next.

Until nightfall.

'Bastard... bastard... bastard.' She thought over and over and over again as she sat numb downstairs at her table staring at nothing. "Nobody I can tell that might not make things worse... nobody I can turn to for justice, nobody I can expect to believe that I said 'no' to him." She uttered as she drank tea in silence.

Before she looked over at the manuscripts and an idea came to her.

"I can't tell anyone... so... I'll tell everyone." She said, and stood up resolutely, it was very dark out, but that was what she wanted. She went into a back storage room that held some left over supplies, a clay container of white paint, and a simple brush.

She snatched them up and rushed out into the night, venturing to the almost empty city square, she went to a building whose wall was partially angled to the street, the place she'd seen him point out to Queen Zesshi, a building that had nobody living or working in it.

"Perfect." She said maliciously, and went to it, writing in giant letters for all to see: Lovien of House Alu Raped Me

She put no name for herself, but as she looked at the words when she stepped back to view her handiwork, despite the anxiety, a wave of relief washed over her, that she could, and did, actually say it.

She returned home, and slept peacefully the rest of the night, which is why she had no idea what the chaos was about, when she finally got up the next morning.


	39. Conspiracies

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 38: Conspiracies

_...Menowa Palace...Days Before Neia's return over the Highway of Tears..._

"What do you mean that Neia has 'run away'?" Ainz asked blankly.

"That is what the report I received from Last Home reads." The Ard Rhi replied. "I am sorry, but it seems there was an attack on the fortress by the Devor, and according to the commander, she fainted in fear, then when she regained consciousness, she fled along with one other unknown individual." Mu'Fidelius took a deep breath, "I fear the worst for her, the Devor are a savage people, and she fled east, no doubt thinking to escape trial, but that way lies the empire which has fed on my people for centuries. There is no real hope of her survival."

Ainz looked at the minotaur Ard Rhi with the only expression he had, a blank one. "Neia Baraja, does not run in any direction but forward, she does not fear, but for those she guards. Somebody is lying."

Mu'Fidelius shifted on his throne, "Your pardon, Sorcerer King, but this is what the report says, Commander Mu'Anik has guarded that fortress for many years. He swears that 'after a brief engagement, Neia Baraja collapsed on the field, and when she awoke, she fled the fortress due to the efforts of an unknown individual, and has not been found. Scouts went out to look for her, but... if she has not fled trial, why would she flee?" He held his hands open out in front of him moving them up and down as if weighing the two options.

Ainz stared at him for a very long time. "I will have an answer for this, and Ard Rhi Mu'Fidelius, if I find reason to think you had some involvement in any harm... or attempt at bringing harm to her before the conclusion of this trial, I will be... very displeased."

Ainz laughed internally as the fool attempted to lie to him. 'As if I would not know where she is, as if she would hide from me... but fine, we'll play this out, I want to see where he goes with this...'

"Of course... I wouldn't do anything like that," Mu'Fidelius replied as if affronted, "but, if the Devor did end her life, I would offer you whatever help I could in avenging her. Such is the love I have for my own children, out of empathetic grief I would lend you any support and allow the passage of your armies through my lands to strike the Devor Empire down. I will, of course, keep the knowledge of her flight, classified. Let her be remembered as a hero who fell in battle. That way she will not die tainted by this trial. We can come up with a story of her saving one or two lives, and giving her own in the doing of it, so that she is ensured a proper legacy."

'So... that's his game. The Devor kill my daughter, then enraged, I move to go to war with them, and then his kingdom is saved at no cost to himself. Clever enough, perhaps it would even have been effective, if he hadn't tried it on myself. Damn fool has no idea about the mirror, has no idea of how powerful my servants are, or he greatly overestimates the strength of the Devor raiders.' Ainz thought to himself, if he still had a face, he was sure he would have laughed, as it was, his emotional dampener was working overtime to keep him from laughing or raging at the unfortunate monarch in front of him.

'Should I call him out now on his pathetic manipulations? No... no I want to drive the point home more than anything else... let his lie rise to the peak of folly before I smash it down to nothing. That despair will be sufficient... for a start.' He thought as his anger simmered beneath the surface.

"I see, well have you already made the announcement at the trial of her flight?" Ainz asked with a false dejected tone as he struck 'disappointed monarch pose one, with his hands fallen to his sides and his face lowered.

"No, I wanted to tell you first, the one called 'Raymond' is finishing his testimony soon, and today is a sacred holiday for us, so the trial will not take place today, it will happen tomorrow, it will be announced as soon as he's finished. I just... I wanted to give you time to absorb the news yourself." Mu'Fidelius extended his hand to the Sorcerer King, "Truly, I am sorry."

Ainz reached out, and clasped it in his skeletal palm, it was everything he could do to not completely crush it right then and there.

_...Menowa Farmstead..._

Nua walked with a spring in her step to the farmhouse that was in less than stellar condition. She knocked on the door, and a middle aged minotaur who had clearly seen better years, one horn was broken, one eye was gone, his body was crisscrossed with scars from healed over injuries. But he had a hardy and confident air about him when he opened the door.

She entered the home made of ramshackle recovered wood, some of it burnt, some of it broken, and she suddenly felt very self conscious about her fine clothing. Goosebumps rose on her skin and she had to fight to keep her face neutral. 'You know better than anyone, you're not better than this, you had less than this once, do not make him feel small. He is your host, good guesthood pleases the divine.' She reminded herself and held her hand out as she looked up at the minotaur who towered over her.

"Nua Calen Aiwenor, at your service." She said courteously.

"Where're the rest?" He asked gruffly.

"Walking up now." She said, "I'm in your country, so I'll abide by your custom of arrival together. Of course I don't know how many will actually show up... but I did my best to keep your ways. I hope you'll forgive any mistake in my judgement." She didn't smile as she said that, and he looked down at her as he took her hand and shook it in what might have been a gesture of approval.

He grunted, "You're a polite one at least, for a human."

"I'm... actually an elf." She said pointedly.

He grunted indifferently. "Oh, whatever. Sit. I'll let the others in." He pointed to a chair, and she noticed his hand was missing one finger, but without comment, she went and sat politely. Her legs together, her hands resting on her knees, her back straight, as her host opened the door wide for the other local farmers to enter.

They crowded the room, shoulder to massive shoulder, a few even too large to walk through the big door without ducking. Still, in they came, most of them were missing a single horn.

A point of minor curiosity, but she made sure to not stare, and before long the place was packed.

"Alright, say what you want." The minotaur farmer replied and shut the door, leaving only the light that came through holes in the wall along the wall, to illuminate them as she spoke, which... meant there was plenty of light.

She stood up, and then hopped on top of the chair so they could see her better. "I'll be blunt, I know minotaurs don't appreciate having their time wasted."

A rumble of approval came from her little audience.

"Simply put, everything is terrible and it's not your fault." She said, and the vague disinterest vanished as they focused on her with unblinking intensity in their big brown eyes.

"However, I offer you a solution to your problems. I want to buy all of your farms. And I want to pay you to run them, and I want to pay you enough for the sale to live off of for years, and I want to keep paying you a good wage to run them. Do I have your attention?" She asked sharply, her voice going from loud, blunt, and bold, to a firm and almost conspiratorial tone.

She did, she very clearly did. Their silence told her that much.

"Here are my terms, accept them, and you'll walk away with coins in hand." She took up her purse and shook it loudly, the coins clinked within, and the impoverished farmers had their eyes following every wobble and bounce of the bag like teenage boys watched bouncing breasts.

Nua gently put the purse back at her side, and went on, "First, all food produced is routed to my temple for distribution. Second, you all accept undead labor to work your farms. All you have to do is supervise the undead, they're tightly controlled, I assure you. Besides, they'll just be skeletons, your big, strong fists could smash those easily enough if you had to."

She let that praise hang in the air before she added, "Of course, if you're afraid... it's OK to leave, this is an 'offer' I'm not imposing it on anyone. However, those of you who don't accept it, will have to compete with those who do." She pointed that out casually, and the farmers looked to their left and right among their neighbors. The prospect of showing fear of mere skeletons with hoes, was almost as bad as the thought of competing with a farm that had tireless free labor.

"I'm glad to see you're as brave as I've heard, now, in addition, those of you with children will be required to send them to school, they'll need a good education, because we won't see your families fall behind as things continue to change. Questions so far?" She asked, keeping her tone bold and her body, small as it was, taking up as much space as she could atop the chair to increase the presence she conveyed.

"What change? Been farming the same way for hundreds of years, been the same kingdom for hundreds of years, why you think anything'll be different?" Her host asked gruffly.

"Well, that isn't really true, is it? I studied this country's history before coming here, it 'was' more than twice its current size, before the Devor Empire started using your country as a food source, you've lost so much farmland that you now send peasants east to farm land on the border, knowing you'll lose hundreds per year in raids, and your country doesn't even try to put up a strong resistance. Your country has grown weak, and your soil?" She put her hands on her hips and stared at them hard, her eyes becoming as golden as her hair as she spoke... "Your soil is on the brink of ruin. And you know it. Your crops are weakening, you don't have magic enough to alter the weather or the soil, you don't have the technology of the west to renew it without magic, even if you did, you're on the brink of famine within a handful of harvests 'at best' and what happens then?" She let her eyes move over the little crowd, the sullen, stubbornness began to transform into despair as their snouts were rubbed in the truth.

"I lived on farms since the days of your great great great grandfather's childhood, don't lie to me and say things are the same as they've always been, those crops out there weren't feeding this country, you're less than ten years away from eating each other. I'm offering you better. What good is your Ard Rhi doing you right now? Even if he wanted to, which to his credit I think he would if he could... he can't. Now do you want wealth, comfort, and plenty, or do you want to eat each other's children in a few years?" Her blunt, harsh words were effective tools to use on the minotaur farmers, who knew their own stark conditions better than any.

"How can you do anything for us, even with'at skeleton labor you're talkin bout, that don't change the problem with our soil, does it now lil elf?" Her host asked dejectedly.

Far from discouraging her, Nua clapped her hands smartly together and said, "Exactly right, but... my god is generous to his servants, as you'll be growing food that his temple will handle, I'm allowed to use whatever scrolls I need to invest in the prosperity of those who work for him. And yes, his power can restore your soil, it will be as rich and vibrant as it was in the days of your grandfathers grandfathers grandfathers, before ruin marched over distant borders." Her golden eyes shone bright, and the light behind her that illuminated her audience conspired to give her the appearance of a divine dark angel, her hands stretched out as if to save a drowning minotaur she did not blink or hesitate in any word or gesture. Their glances back and forth were questioning, but... she felt their desperate need, and played to it well.

"I realize this all seems too much, hard to believe, yet it's so. Look at me, do I seem poor in body or mind? Am I a broken soul? No. But I was, once, I was once... nothing but a body slave in a dark city, a wretched thing worth no more coins than it cost to buy a single meal at a nice establishment. I was saved from that fate by power overwhelming, found my strength again, found my freedom again, found hope again. I have traveled here, all this way from a far flung part of the world, because I want everyone to gain what I have gained. I'm from so far away, that you didn't even recognize me for what I am, mistaking me for a human. But human, elf, minotaur, it doesn't matter. There is, for me, only good service to His Majesty, who set me free and gave back my tomorrows. Sign with me, and things will change. Or refuse and..." She let the sentence hang in the air until one of them in the back asked...

"And what?"

She shrugged. "Nothing. If you're happy with the way things are going, tell me to get out, and I'll leave and take my offer elsewhere. I won't bother you again."

"Can you... prove that you can do any'a this?" The grizzled host asked with lingering skepticism.

"Sure, but I'm not an idiot, I'm not going to use the magic of my god, and then not have the place I used it on." Nua said, furrowing her brow at him. "But... that is fair, why should you believe these wild claims when I haven't actually 'done' anything? Tell you what, I'll do this." She hopped down from her chair, slapped down a copy of her sale contract, yanked out a quill and inkwell, and then added a line to the bottom of the contract. She read it out loud as she wrote it in their language, "Contract void if restoration is not complete within ten minutes of signing, with coin for sale forfeited to the seller."

She then signed her portion, slid the document over to her host, and she laid a single platinum coin over his signature.

She waited, "Enough, I'll prove it now, or leave, what'll it be?" She asked, her blunt words struck home, and the host marked the contract accordingly and pocketed the coin.

"Better." Nua said cheerfully and exited the farmstead, then withdrew a scroll as the visitors and her host filtered out behind her. She unsealed it, and whispered, [Greater restore area, farm] The scroll vanished in a burst of flame, and as if the soil beneath their hooves and her feet were singing, a noise like a crystal bell rang out, and golden light swept out in all directions from where Nua stood, and the broken, dried, and largely ruined soil that had become like dust, became rich, moist, and dark. Minotaur farmers stood in silent awe, while Nua knelt down, cupped two handfuls of rich, vibrant soil, and raised her hands up over her head, so that it was almost directly under the face of her host.

"It is done. My god. Is god. Your land is healed." He held out trembling hands to take the soil from her , and he began to knead it in his fingers, looking at it like it was something from another world, unable to bear it a moment more, he fell to his knees and wailed with overwhelming joy, he fell to all fours and scrounged through the land of his birth and of his life, and that of his family, the land that had nearly died beneath his hooves, and he hugged it to himself as if he were a child.

He scrambled like a child who found a big mud puddle to play in, laughing like a madman while the others dropped to their knees in turn to hold the soil for themselves.

The 'former' owner of the land was the first to come to himself, but he didn't stand up, he went only to his knees. "I have prayed to Kiril for all my life, as my father before me, and his father before him. My grandfather spoke of a time when the soil was like this, my father said he had vague memories of it, I have none, only dreams, dreams and prayers that bought me nothing as I saw my harvest fall every year since childhood. Here in a moment, your god answered prayers my god ignored. Your god, is my god, the god of plenty, and good harvests, and my farm is yours, and will grow food in his name."

Nua reached out to touch his cheek, "Be proud, you who feed the people, without whom people grow hungry, desperate, and break. You've taken the first step toward a glorious and wonderful future. And because you are the first of the farmers of the Minotaur Kingdom to embrace my lord, you will be first among them in all things. Now, tell me your name, let me hear it with my own ears."

"Mu'Agros." He said solemnly.

"Thank you, for taking a chance, Mu'Agros, your boldness today, will serve you well for the rest of your life." Nua's other hand went to his cheek, and gently she pulled his face down so that he was looking at his soil. "Go on, savor it some more, some people keep their eyes on heaven, but those who farm the soil, keep their eyes to that, and we need more of the latter in the world, than the former."

Her clear reverence for their work, and the undeniable magic she had brought to bear, had the rest of the farmers up and rushing into the house to sign the contracts of sale and return them to her. She handed out coins one after the other, and explained, "You'll be paid out of the sale of each harvest. One part in every ten will be set aside for temple use, one part in ten will be set aside to pay for undead labor, one part in ten will be set aside to feed the poor, and two parts in ten will account for your pay. As your harvest grows, so does your yield in coin, but 'no' independent sales unless you buy another plot of land for that purpose. If you want undead labor for that, you have to get it separately. Anything you'd like to know?" She asked as she handed out coins and took back contracts.

"When... when do'ya take care of our farms?" One of them asked from their knees as their hands still kneaded the soil in their fingers as if afraid it would crumble to dust again.

"How long does it take a wagon to get to them? I brought a scroll each." She replied, and jerked her thumb toward the wagon. "Hop on, and we'll make a full circuit right now." She looked down at Mu'Agros then and asked, "Want to come too, I like to tell stories to pass the time, and I've got a good one today."

Mu'Agros jumped to his hooves and headed to the cart with the rest of them.

As she returned to the cart she'd come on, Mu'Sula was already getting ready to push, "Can you handle this many of your folk at once?" Nua asked uncertainly.

"Boss, with your offer, I'll handle ten times that much, but... I still hope you've got a good story to tell on the way, I have a weakness for those." He said enthusiastically.

"Damn straight," Nua said as she jumped up into the cart and sat among the farmers, "I call this one, 'The Demons and the Zern Prince' I heard it when I was training to become a priestess." She looked around and had all eyes on her, and she began, "In a far away land, a great demon emperor, Jaldabaoth by name, threatened to destroy all things and took for his prisoner, the prince of a people called the Zern..."

_...Crescent Lake..._

Bertra was at the market when she heard the people talking, she picked up a piece of fruit and put it into a small basket as she listened. "...How could anyone accuse him? He's so generous, his building projects have resulted in businesses opening all over the city. It's just a baseless rumor, slander is what it is, libel, to accuse a man with that kind of reputation of something so horrible. Must be some jealous bitch, angry that he rejected her advances."

The woman behind the stall didn't say anything as the two customers spoke and condemned the writer of the terrible graffiti. Bertra could not help but interject, "Maybe so, but... if it's true, maybe that's the only way she could say anything at all, exactly because they're afraid of being thought of the way you speak of her now. Maybe she's lashing out precisely because she knows there's no way she'll get justice."

"Nonsense, somebody would have said something by now if he were that kind of man." That got a few frowns turned her way, and the pair stormed off in a huff.

Bertra smiled weakly at the uncomfortable woman behind the fruit stall, and took several more apples before handing over her coins. "Sorry, didn't mean to disrupt anything, keep the change as my apology."

The vendor cracked a smile.

And the chatter was everywhere she went that day. As she passed by the city center, she saw that 'her wall' was already cleaned of her words. She felt bitter tears come to mind. 'You think you can just erase it...? That that'll be it?!' Bertra thought angrily and stormed off home.

That night, she took out the paint again, and wrote on two more walls. 'Lovien of House Alu Raped Me'

The next morning when she opened up shop, feeling cathartic and satisfied that she hadn't been silenced, she was smiling as customers entered, picked up or dropped off a few books, and even stayed for tea, and it was when a few were drinking, that she was asked by her neighbor who ran the shoe shop next door over, "Did you hear about the graffiti?"

"No, what about it, somebody put it on another wall again?" Bertra asked while she kept her smile inside her own mind.

"No, it's on three walls this morning, though why they used blue on one wall and white on another, I don't know." He shrugged, "Terrible though, to falsely accuse a man like that, a man of such standing and reputation, of something so terrible. You know, he even got us a deep discount on the cost of building our shop, all my wife had to do was ask while I was out of town procuring leather, and a few days later, we got our rates reduced and our shop was as good as built." Her neighbor had a confident, knowing look on his face as he drank the tea she'd served him.

"A good man like that, what kind of dirty, underhanded monster would slander the name of someone who's been such a friend to me for these last few years?" He sounded affronted as he spoke, "Could I ask for one of those lemon biscuits to go with this, those are the best."

"Y-Yes of course." Bertra said, and glanced at his wife who sat opposite her husband, and saw her eyes turn aside from the man she loved. A snap decision came to Bertra's mind.

When she came back a moment later, laying a small tray down between the two, though she spoke to the husband, she looked to his wife. "Well, I don't know what motivates a person to write something like that, but I do know that if someone did, and it was true, they did it because speaking up about it made them feel better, even if they never expected anything to come of it. Holding it in, maybe they just couldn't do that?"

She shrugged calmly, but the husband appeared angry, "He's a friend of yours, isn't he? Comes by this shop, you should be ashamed of even suggesting something like that of a man who is a pillar of Elven society!"

Bertra kept the feeling of being slapped in the face by her neighbor, to herself, and went about the business of tending the customers of her shop.

She went out that night again, as she expected, her words were erased.

She painted again on a wall, "Lovien of House Alu Raped Me" in big, white letters, and she slept soundly. He didn't come by her house in all that time.

The morning came and she stretched out happily, starting her day to the sound of people shouting outside.

She looked out and saw a half a dozen elves looking at different walls. Her central location, close to the great square, made it easy to see.

The same message was present, all in different colors, on three walls she hadn't touched, and the guards were out in force.

When she opened her shop, she was all smiles when Soren entered, ducking his head as he came in through the door and brushing the bell with his shoulder.

"Ooops, sorry." He grinned like the lunkhead he appeared to be.

Bertra couldn't help but grin as he blushed, always so self conscious of his size. A memory came to mind, 'She likes cute things.' Entoma had said, as she bought a stuffed toy called a 'teddy bear' as a gift for CZ, 'He's like a big teddy bear.' She thought with a laugh that could only be described as a giggle.

He looked down at her and she laughed him off with a shake of her head, "It's nothing, your book came in." She crouched down at the counter and took it from the shelf there and handed it to him.

"Thanks Bertra, you're the best." His apple colored blush hadn't faded and he put the coins on the counter.

"I know, and you're observant." She teased and pretended a cocky smile, "How are things with you? You haven't been in much lately."

"Fine, I got the contract, but Lord Lovien isn't around much, the last few days have been chaotic. He actually lost his temper and was yelling at his servants to find who was responsible. When I showed up at the palace for him to present me as his intended builder, he was begging Queen Zesshi to 'do something about the lying sluts who were ruining his good name with their baseless, jealous accusations.' Isn't that something?" He asked as he shook his head. "Still, he doesn't have to be around, I can manage without him. Oh... and one more thing."

Bertra's face betrayed no emotions as she listened, "Oh, what's that?" She asked.

"He said I should thank you for the great terms I was getting, and he even gave me a recommendation to several other nobles with a mind toward expanding their manor houses. He said I had you to thank for going the extra mile. Whatever you said to him, sure had an impact. So, thank you." He said with innocent warmth to his words.

The memory flashed back to the feel of his body slapping against hers in her bed, she closed her eyes and felt sick, "It, ah, you're welcome, excuse me." She said, and hurried away as he looked at her in confusion as her back retreated from him and she slammed the door to the back room.

Soren rubbed the back of his head, his ears twitched. "Something I said?" He wondered, and was about to walk out, when he heard a faint sound of retching and choking, his ears twitched again and a frown formed on his face.

He hesitated, looking to the exit, and looking to the back. There was nobody else in the shop just yet, and wouldn't be likely for a bit. A moment later, he made a decision. He flipped the open sign to closed, locked the door, and headed to the back room. The door was shut, but he knocked. "Bertra? Bertra are you alright?"

There was coughing and hacking, "Are you sick, are you alright? Should I come in?"

"No, no it's fine, just not feeling well." She forced out as she hunched over the disposal pot in her little kitchen area. "You can go! Go on and get to work, I'll be fine!"

"Oh-OK." He said, and hesitated. A moment later, he heard her footsteps coming quick on the floor, and the door swung inward. She stood there with rage on her face as he had turned halfway on his heel.

"Why are you still here?!" She shouted furiously, "Didn't I say to leave! Didn't I say to get out and leave me alone!" Her face twisted in wrath, and her eyes went narrow as she looked at him with fury, she caught a glimpse of herself, reflected in the mirror, and saw not eyes of her own, but eyes closer to those of Neia Baraja as her venom was turned on the Theocracy Cardinals in Draudillons great Capitol years ago. 'Now... now she makes more sense...'

He reared back from her in surprise, his eyes as inversely wide as hers narrowed. He looked down at her in utter confusion. "I was-"

"Do you want to do it too! Is that why you're still there when I told you to leave?!" She balled up her fists and tears welled up in her eyes.

"Bertra I..." He reached out to take her hand and she yanked it back, "Don't touch me!"

His hand snapped back away from her, and he took a step back. "I wasn't going to-"

"I was just leaving, I was just worried about you... you're my friend." He added, and stepped back again.

She looked up at him, the big teddy bear of an elf, a wall of muscle and flesh beneath a cherubic and innocent face and big blue eyes that looked as harmless as a child's. "The last man who said that to me... the last man to call me a friend... raped me. Now just... get out, if you're really my friend, you'll do what I ask."

Soren stared down at her blankly, "I... yes, I'll do what you ask, I'm sorry I- I'll go if that's what you want." He stammered out.

She looked down, suddenly very tired, very weary, holding onto the door with flecks of spittle still on her lips and jaw, she nodded. "Th-thank you. Maybe you're telling the truth."

Not knowing what else to do, Soren left, but he kept the door locked as he exited.

Bertra spent the rest of the day in the darkness of her room, the fact that Lovien seemed to have 'kept his promise' made her feel worse, like she really just had been an object in a bargain, exploited but not regarded.

She did not go out and paint that night.

The next day however, she had to go out for food, and on walls all over much of the market square, were various colors of paint in loud letters large letters, done in various hands, "Lovien of House Alu Raped Me".

Her eyes could barely comprehend it, and the buzz of conversation as guards went out to erase it, but it was far, far too late for that.

_...Elf Queen's Palace..._

Zesshi looked out over the court, her head resting on her fist, her black and white hair hung loose down her back, grown longer with time, it was one of her few sources of vanity, as everything else in her dress was battlefield pragmatic. At her left and right hands stood Thirg and Tefl Dahn, dressed in full military kit with their customary weapons always close at hand to defend their Queen.

The royalty of the elven province was in attendance, lining the walls of the great hall, save for the spot where the Elf King had broken through after Zesshi had sent him flying down to the city streets. Nobody ever stood in front of that spot, as it was considered disrespectful to block anyone's view of the place where their nightmare had ended.

"I don't have to tell you this is a problem, do I Lovien?" Queen Zesshi asked.

He knelt several feet from her with his head bowed low. "No, you don't, Your Highness. But I swear, I didn't do these things!"

Zesshi's fingers rapped lightly on the armrest of her throne, "You know, when a man can't figure out who is doing something like this to him, it's either because he does not think he has any enemies at all, or because he's got so many, he can't hope to narrow it down."

He raised his head and looked at her with terrified eyes, "Your Highness!"

"So, which is it?" Zesshi asked bluntly.

"Your Highness, my family has been a pillar of elven society for generations! I was a slave in the Theocracy, I would never...!" She raised a hand to cut him off.

"Lot of words there for 'none'. It's fine, I take your meaning and I'm not in the mood to waste my time. The guards are out in force to look for vandals, but there are a lot of walls and only so many people. I'm assuming you have your own household guards out doing the same thing, but..." She stopped drumming her fingers and rested her arms on her knees as she leaned forward earnestly, staring at him with her heterochromatic eyes, "I don't have to tell you that if you catch anyone, they get brought to the city guard. No time 'alone' with you. No time confined in your custody, straight to my guard and nowhere else, anything more than that, and I'll carve your heart out with a rusty spoon and feed it to the twins here as a snack."

Thirg and Tefl licked their lips for emphasis on her words, and a collective shiver ran down the spines of those who heard the warning.

She then sat up straight as he silently acknowledged her orders. "I'm ordering the rest of you to put the rest of your soldiers to work doing the same thing, I want to get to the bottom of this. I know tensions are running high with the Great Deliverer on trial... especially given the revelations laid bare by the former Cardinal, Raymond Zarg Lauransan... and with the many biographies being released on the lives of our people in human bondage. But I won't have my rule be marked by anything like my father's. If they lie, they will be punished... severely. If they tell the truth..." She narrowed her eyes on the noble in front of her.

Lovien swallowed audibly enough that the entire court heard him.

"They don't." He said firmly. "I admit, majesty, I've had many women over the years, I enjoy that, I do. But I don't need to force them. When you're a wealthy nobleman, they just let you do things, they want it, I don't have to use force, I'd never make someone... just show them how much they're wanted! These are baldfaced lies, libel, slander! Why would someone with my reputation risk destroying it?! Do you think me insane?!" He asked, aghast and dismayed.

That made the Queen relax in her throne, "No, no I suppose not. Nonetheless I won't allow trial by rumor to be the justice of my province either. His Majesty would be disappointed in me, and I can't help but think my friends would be disappointed in me." Zesshi said, and then looked out over the court, "I know you all had intended to go watch the trial today, but instead I want you to prepare your soldiers, have them in plain clothing, but give them the royal seal to ensure it is understood they have the right to detain. However again, they come to me, not to you, if they arrest anyone. Any questions?" She asked.

Silence.

"Good, then go, Thirg, Tefl, stay here." She said as she looked up over her shoulder as the court emptied.

When they were alone, she stood up from her throne and went back into her private office, there she sat at her desk, a dark wood with stacks of papers on it, a map pinned to the wall beside it that showed the surrounding nations and the Sorcerous Empire itself, and the a small wine rack with bottles and glasses.

"Sit." She said, gesturing to two ornate chairs of elegantly carved black wood, with its engravings being those of growing vines and large twisting leaves.

They did, and she frowned deeply, "What do you think?"

Thirg grunted, "There are a few possibilities. One, he's telling the truth. Two, he's lying. If he's telling the truth, then he's got either one enemy trying to hurt him, or many." His heavy fist sat limp in his lap and he rubbed his chin. "If he's lying, I can't tell, he's better at it than I am at detecting it."

Tefl rolled her eyes, "Brother, when was the last time you won at a game of cards?"

"So you can tell if he's telling the truth?" Zesshi asked with sudden attention.

"Me? Oh, hell no. I'm just saying that musclehead over here couldn't do it either." She shrugged her arms apart and let them fall down in frustration. "He is right though, but one thing caught my attention."

"What's that?" Zesshi inquired.

"Majesty have you seen the writing on the wall?" Tefl inquired with sharp eyes focused on her Queen.

"No, no I haven't." Zesshi answered, "I haven't had a chance to get out much except for work. Never thought I'd respect anything about Dominic but... say what you will of that bastard, he had one helluva work ethic."

Tefl huffed and went over to a work table beneath the map that bore ink, paper, and other assorted items, and she quickly snatched up three sheets and laid one in front of each of their places, she then took three quills and the ink bottle and set it down in between them. "Write what was written on them, please, Your Highness."

Though she got questioning looks, they followed her instructions and each wrote the same phrase. She then took them and laid them down side by side.

"Each of these is a different hand, no two people that I've ever seen, wrote exactly the same way, I've read enough orders and notes to know that for a fact. All the writing on all the walls except for the second day, were different, where there were two matches out of the three. Also, each of them used different sized brushes, and almost all of them were different colors of paint. Now... unless we've got a libelest running around carrying a bunch of paint colors, different brushes, and changing up their handwriting every time... these were all written by different people. Also, they were written at different heights, suggesting that different people wrote each one. A height changing person carrying all that crap around would definitely be noticed." Tefl's face did not have its usual cocky smirk, instead the vampire was calculating and thoughtful as she pointed out the many differences.

"So... either conspiracy, or the first one inspired others to come forward." Zesshi concluded, "But then, why not report it to the guard?"

Thirg looked at her like she was dense.

"What?" Zesshi asked flatly, meeting his rolling eyes.

"Our culture, My Queen, did nothing to show the victims of this crime any sympathy, your late father, may he suffer forever, did it all the time. I fear that the aftermath of that is a culture where we don't prosecute it much, especially if the person is powerful. Lovien is a powerful and popular person, he's done a lot for the city, and I'm out in the streets, people were calling the authors liars, cowards for not coming forward, slanderers, nobody wants to imagine Lovien would do this." Thirg explained patiently, holding his hands out as they rested on the table, his red eyes intent as he said it.

"But you think it's possible, don't you?" Zesshi asked.

"His denial seemed genuine... but... I'd be more comfortable if we had actual witnesses." Thirg replied. "We can't prosecute the guy on rumors and graffiti, even if they paint the damn city with them."

"Fine, so go out looking for them yourselves if you have to, but I want this messenger in the darkness, dragged out into the light. Rumors spread like plagues, they're always far ahead of the cures, which is in this case, the truth. We have to prevent this epidemic before it gets worse." Zesshi ordered brusquely and slammed her hand down on the table hard enough to rattle it, spilling some ink out onto the paper as she did so.

"Highness." The pair said, stood, and bowed, and made their exits after rendering a martial salute with their fists over their hearts.

"Well, isn't this a helluva thing?" She asked the empty room, and flung herself back in her throne. "Really wish some of the other Kings, Queens, and Governors had this problem of feeling like they're not up to this, it'd be nice to have someone to bitch with over it.


	40. Bitter Revelations

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 39: Bitter Revelations

_...Kirakira Prison..._

Mu'Ka looked out over the yard, the guards and the prisoners were formed up into squads, they had been practicing the methods of their instructors for hours, with the unofficial addition to their ranks of the human prisoner who pointed out additional improvements that could be made to their existing methodology. As a result, the guards and prisoners alike were starting to improve. The ones he'd expected to bury as starved corpses had grown stronger, and become leaders respected for their pride, while guards had become more than watchful eyes, they had become helping hands, assisting instructors in forming ties beyond the prison.

As he watched down below as one squad outdid the other, only for the two a few minutes later to be paired against two more, the bonds of camaraderie were growing and the lines were blurring. "I may have to start using some of those parole passes soon, these may be wasted behind prison walls."

A guard approached him from the entrance, evidently a minotaur coming on shift. "Sir... is it really true?" He asked as he walked confidently over the long walkway.

"Is what true?" Mu'Ka asked without taking his eyes off the miracle he was seeing down below.

"That you're going to let them start selling goods produced here, outside, out through the temple in the capital?" The guard asked curiously.

Mu'Ka nodded, "Yes, and other than a slice for myself for administrative work and commission, they'll reap the profits. All this... it seems impossible, but there it is. The prisoners have all converted, and so have almost all the guards, how about you?"

"No, but... I've listened to their instructors' teachings of the divine, and readings from their book, I admit it's compelling. It's hard not to feel the strength down there, it's like we're finding a part of ourselves we've lost. Weakness did this to us, it is the sin that makes all sinners, and all sinners worse." The guard replied as he shared Mu'Ka's look down there.

'He'll convert soon too.' Mu'Ka thought, and huffed as he waved the guard on. "Go ahead, get to your post, or go down there, doesn't matter, we've got nothing to worry about now. But before you ask, no, I don't know when the one who got this started, will be back."

The guard bowed, and went down the long winding path that would take him to where the training was taking place, which didn't surprise the warden in the least.

_...Nazarick..._

Vanysa looked down at the little item she was working on in Demiurge's lab. It was a small crystalline pendant, similar to the last one she'd given to Albedo to pass to Neia, the information gleaned from Albedo after the Sorcerer King's return from Argland had been... helpful, if incomplete. But if nothing else, at least, she sighed as she looked down at it, an anxious thought had been put to rest.

"Any luck yet?" Albedo, the cause of Vanysa's anxious thoughts, asked impatiently.

The demoness shook her head, "No, my Lady. Not yet. The potential is there, but the problem with these crystals is that they are stabilized, bringing the mana from different things together and getting it to flow the way I want it to is not easy."

"Is this your way of torturing my Neia, the prophet who proclaimed me future empress?" She could feel the glare at the back of her neck.

Vanysa's wings trembled behind her. She didn't look up from her examination as she tried to balance the magical energy between the crystals without disrupting the flow as she tried to combine them all into one piece. "My Lady, I am charged with her absolute protection... outside of court. Even within the court, it tears me apart to do what I do. But outside of it, I am incapable of doing her any harm." Vanysa responded uncomfortably, and she felt the Guardian Overseer relax, and the accusation didn't come again.

"Is there nothing that can serve the purpose you require?" Albedo asked as she walked closer and stood directly over the small fury's shoulder.

Vanysa frowned, "The trouble with magic is that it is inherently unstable, the methods of 'First World' must have been much more reliable, but we don't have that. If I had liquified crystals I could do so much more, but I don't, and nothing yet exists that could liquify them without a catastrophic release of mana from within. She punched her fist down on the table in frustration and her golden body shook with rage.

"If His Majesty had blood, I bet his could serve as a conduit." Vanysa said with annoyance. "Ironically what we'd need to create an item to turn him into a being with flesh and blood, and back again, simply doesn't exist yet, but it could be made with blood from his body if he had it. It's like having torture implements but nobody to use them on, or someone to use them on, but no implements."

"I'd use my blood, but I'm too weak, maybe one day I'll be strong enough, but not yet. Demiurge is powerful enough, and he's a demon, magic stabilizes easily for him, but..." She groaned and grabbed at her horns in frustration.

"But what?" Albedo demanded, tapping her foot.

"My Lady, I don't know about how magic worked in the Second World you came from, but here, well... how do I put this... it often bonds close to a person, I think that's why some people develop talents, and others don't. For it to be most effective, the blood would have to not only be from someone exceptionally powerful, but with a deep desire for all this to work."

Albedo was silent, then touched Vanysa's golden shoulder, "What about my blood?"

Vanysa looked at her skeptically, "My Lady, you are powerful, and a demon, but do you actually..." She shut her mouth when she saw Albedo's expression.

"Alright, I'll try it, this is a small trio, I simply need a drop or two of your blood to act as a nexus between spells to balance everything, if it works, then we can keep the mana that powers prophecy from flooding into her brain, and if we can do that, it won't kill her." Vanysa said.

"Will it hurt her?" Albedo asked cautiously.

"I can't say, probably not," Vanysa shrugged her shoulders, bouncing her wings briefly, "she doesn't have exceptional mana reserves, so the outer crystal doesn't have to hold much, and should be fine even for the overproduction that comes with a berserker state. However..."

"Yes?" Albedo asked hesitantly.

"Manacrystals are not meant to just hold untapped magic, it will have to be put to use at some point any time she has an episode, if it fills up and she has another one... this may fail completely." Vanysa warned the demoness and stepped aside.

Albedo nodded, "One drop of blood is all it will take?"

"One big drop, but yes, My Lady." Vanysa replied formally.

Albedo laughed, "Even pathetic village matrons shed more blood than that to give life to their spawn. A demon empress to be, can give up a drop to save a daughter." Albedo quipped and held a finger over the crystal that held a tiny round depression, and using the impossibly strong fingers of her other hand, she lightly pricked the pad of her forefinger, then let it drop down into the little gap, forming a tiny red pool."

Vanysa sniffled a little as Albedo stepped back, "What?" She asked the demoness.

"Jus reminded me a somthin..." She said with wild and passionate storm grey eyes, "How... how long time-a-go, momma bled ta protect me when ah was little... how brave she was, ta save me from a wild beast." She sighed, "Always kinda felt bad fer Neia, on accounta she didn't have that growin up. Ah jus..." Vanysa squeezed her eyes shut tight for a moment, before opening them to their former clarity.

"I'm just glad she's got it now." Vanysa said as she went to the crystal halves and closed them over one another, and sealed them tight, then looping a small adamantite chain through a loop affixed to the top of the crystal and sealed between the two halves, she locked it shut and held it up to the Guardian Overseer.

"I just... one more thing, Lady Albedo?" Vanysa asked as she lowered her eyes.

"What?" She asked as she accepted the final product.

"Win. Don't let me kill my friend. I'm following orders, I'll do my best, but please... I don't want her to die... I don't want to hurt her, you've got to find some way out of this. That killing in open court wasn't the last nail." Vanysa started breathing heavy and hard.

"Are you... well?" Albedo asked as sweat began to bead on the forehead of the erinyes of vengeance.

"Lady... Albedo, I have two conflicting orders here, and I know which one to follow, I'm ordered to prosecute her, but outside of court, to protect her. I know where she is, and why she's there, though it relates to court, she's outside of there now and... so this is my chance to tell you... but it's still painful, like swimming too long against a tide." Vanysa began to breathe harder and harder. Her fangs were visible as her mouth fell open.

Albedo's face grew cautious, uncertain, her eyelids fluttered as she tried to process what she was seeing.

Which is why she was caught off guard when Vanysa's talons grabbed her with strength far in excess of what the demoness of vengeance should have possessed and she stared up at Albedo with fanatical devotion in her eyes. "You've got to get her out! She'll hang herself if she's left out there!"

_...Crescent Lake..._

Bertra was glad when she was finally alone, but at the same time, part of her wished the big teddy bear would have stayed, though as she looked at the door, she was relieved much more that he'd actually gone when she told him to. 'If he'd have refused... even if he hadn't meant any harm... I don't think I'd ever look at the lunkhead the same way again.' She smiled a little at the big oaf with the silly grin and the boyish face on the behemoth of a body.

Still, she was alone, and she went about the rest of her routine to close up shop, bathed in water that all but burned her, and got dressed in tight fitting clothing suitable for her intentions, took out her clay jar of paint, a brush, and went out into the night. Soldiers were out in force, but for the former scripture member, that wasn't a problem.

She ran along the rooftops as stealthily as she could, which for her, was stealthy as the wind through which she ran. The moonless night gave her additional cover, she jumped from one position to another, and found herself savoring the beauty of the greatest elven city in the world, a marvel of ingenuity in both magic and mundane means that made the city alive in every sense of the word, not merely occupied by the living. 'As a human, I'd have found this beautiful but as an elf... I... I can't imagine anywhere I'd rather be, it's like I'm drawn to this kind of place.' She thought as she found the place she wanted She listened with care for anyone nearby, and found none. She dropped down between two buildings, another of 'his' properties, and set herself to painting the same message as before.

"Stop!" A voice shouted, and her eyes widened, she dropped the clay jar and it shattered, scattering paint, she dropped the brush, jumped against the wall, pushed off to the other, and headed for the roof to run away. 'That ought to do it.' She thought as she took off running.

"Stop!" She heard and looked behind her, and saw two glowing red eyes.

'Fuck! Vampires... ugh of all the...' She cursed her luck and pumped her legs and used her martial arts to run like hell. **[Ability boost] [Lesser Strength] [Agility Boost]** She sped up.

Tefl could hardly believe what she was seeing. Whoever it was, was outrunning her. The distance between them was growing and the person, a woman given her body shape, had clearly used martial arts and was expertly using the city itself to increase the distance, propelling herself off walls, chimneys, tree limbs, and so on.

Tefl ran hard and fast, the sound of her feet rattling clay tiles she used martial arts of her own, and managed to close the distance, but the woman was swift as a raging river.

"Stop! I'm not going to hurt you!" Tefl shouted into the dark.

The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, "That's what I thought about him!"

Cursing her loose tongue, she turned to magic. [White Flame Prison] She uttered, and swung her arm behind her, creating a prison of white fire around the vampire.

Tefl stopped dead as she recognized the use of sacred fire to contain her... 'How the hell... could 'that' man have raped 'her'?' She wondered, as the suspect hopped several more buildings over, then disappeared far in the distance.

She swore, but yanked a message scroll out and contacted Queen Zesshi.

After she explained what happened, Zesshi did not answer. 'Highness?' Tefl prompted.

'It will vanish in a few minutes, go ahead and go back home, I've got somewhere to be.' Zesshi replied, and then killed the connection.

Bertra landed in front of her shop, breathing hard, she reached for the door handle, opened it, and entered slowly enough that the bell barely tinkled. She looked over her clothing, white paint had gotten on her clothing, so without hesitation, she used a simple cleansing spell. "Just like that, it's gone." She said as she took off the black fabric she'd been using to disguise her face, and with great relief, she tossed it aside.

"Still, a vampire, how do I get that kind of luck... of all the things to catch me in the act... but, at least I got away." She said out loud to the wonderful shop, and held her arms out as if to embrace it. "This is my home now, this is where I want to spend my life... I'm not letting that bastard take it away from me." She swore as she looked around her beautiful little residence.

"Not exactly Kami Miyako, or your luxurious estate, but it's yours, and you like it, and that's enough, isn't it Berenice." Zesshi said as she walked through the door, then closed and locked it behind her.

Bertra instantly went from a shocked expression, to down on one knee with a fist to the floor and her head bowed.

"Your Highness!" She exclaimed. "Welcome to my home, it's after hours but, for you if there's something you like..."

Zesshi didn't waste words, and didn't intend to play games, she approached the blonde elf, the former human Cardinal, and grabbing her hair at the root, she yanked her head up and back and forced Bertra to look into her heteromorphic eyes.

"What the hell are you up to?!" Zesshi demanded with a fierce bite to her words.

Bertra's eyes glassed over and narrowed angrily, she bared her teeth and growled as she looked up at the former 'trump card of humanity'.

"What do you mean?" She forced out innocently.

Zesshi shook her, hard. "I'm not playing here, I know it was you!"

Bertra shut her eyes as her head was bounced about like a rag doll. "Are you going back into some political nonsense, is this part of some conspiracy to hurt my rule or are you going after him?!"

Bertra cried out, "I didn't..."

"Shut it!" Zesshi snapped. "Your clothes may be clean, but there's white paint on the floor and outside your shop, you're dressed like an operative, your face covering is on your counter, and if there's one other person in this city who can use fire magic like a former Holocaust Scripture member to contain a vampire, I'll hire them right now. I 'know' it was you, now tell me what's going on!" The Queen said as Berenice thrashed.

"Damn it..." Bertra said as she calmed down.

"The truth." Zesshi relaxed her grip a bit, but forced her eyes up.

"I wrote the truth! But nobody believes it! Nobody!" Bertra cried out in anguish.

Zesshi released her and stared down at the former Cardinal.

"What, shouldn't you be happy it happened to me!" Bertra shouted from down on her knees. "You're a Queen, and I, the former Cardinal, am now a peasant! I told you to put up with what the elves were suffering, and now..." She laughed bitterly, "It's politically convenient for you to just let your noble do what he wants to me. If I still believed in the old gods... I'd think this was their punishment, the irony isn't lost on me, I assure you."

Zesshi was very, very quiet, and let Bertra go on. "Yes... I did it, I was the first to put the writing on the wall, that day, the one in the square where I saw you laughing at a joke he told while he showed you a building, he'd raped me the night before and left boasting about his connections to you. But that wasn't the last time, there were... a few more times he did it, in one day."

Zesshi frowned, "Bullshit." She said and folded her arms. "You may have the body of an elf and the fake backstory of a former slave, but you still have all your old power, probably more. You could have snapped his wrist, arm, legs, broken off his hardon and shoved it down his throat before he had time to scream."

Bertra nodded, "I considered it, believe me. But... not all power is physical. If I killed him, well, you know who he is. Everybody knows, likes, and respects him. Nobody would ever have believed me, even with magic, when someone is that popular or powerful, even the truth doesn't matter to people. You'd have had to punish me for it, and that's assuming I even got a chance to explain myself. If I only injured him, well... he has a lot of power and money... he could get back at me in a thousand ways. I have a life here now... I didn't want to lose it. This is my home, this is my business, I made it all and I don't want to give it up!"

Zesshi stared at the kneeling cardinal. "Say it. Look me in the eyes and say it."

From down on her knees she screwed up her courage and stared at her Queen as hard as she could.

"Your Highness... Lord Lovien of House Alu, assaulted and raped me, repeatedly. He threatened my livelihood, and made veiled threats of harm not only to mine, but another's career, by promising 'help' if I let him have his way with me, and suggesting things wouldn't go well unless I cooperated. So I let him do what he wanted, to keep this little life that I've built for myself, intact."

"And what is it you want, addressing your Queen with these allegations?" Zesshi asked.

"I want... I want justice! Please... give me justice!" She shouted through her caught throat and prostrated herself at her Queen's feet. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I promise I'll regret those things I said for the rest of my life, I understand if you want to savor this as some kind of revenge against me but..." Bertra trailed off as her sobs got the better of her.

Zesshi did not move as she looked down at the former Cardinal through stone heterochromatic eyes. "But?" She prompted.

"But I only wrote in white, and only a few, all the rest were other people, who knows how many he's done this too. He controls so much... he could take advantage of any woman with a business, any woman with ambition... any woman..." She lowered her eyes again, "with a lot to lose... like me."

"So why didn't you report him to the watch?" Zesshi asked curiously.

"Same reason you didn't report what the guard was doing to Aorli. Either nobody would believe it, or nobody would care, or they'd think I was after something. Look at you, you've known me your whole life, and you've never heard me lie to you, but as soon as you heard me say it, you immediately said I was lying. You can't admit that the elf lord you trusted to his position would do that. That your judgement was wrong, that your friend who made you laugh had not but a few hours before, left me lying on the floor unable to understand how that could have happened."

She looked up at her Queen, "Are you going to say we're all lying, how much writing will be on the walls tomorrow?!"

Zesshi didn't answer, but Bertra could see the Queen deep in thought.

"Do you have any proof?" Zesshi asked slowly.

Bertra laughed bitterly, "Like what, like what 'he left behind'? No, I scrubbed everything away like the filth it was, I tried pretending nothing happened, I tried pretending everything was normal, to keep talking to him, and that only made him do more, and all I could do was let it happen or... well, here I am, on my knees to you, who can take away absolutely everything from me, which is what I was afraid of in the first place. All I've got... one thing I couldn't bear to throw away." Bertra said, then stood up and went to her closet upstairs, and returned a few moments later with her torn up dress.

"He ripped it when he stripped me. I bought this with the first money I earned on my own here... it was... special, now it's... it's filthy. I can't even look at it."

Zesshi took the dress and held it up in both hands, as Bertra said, there were several tears that looked like the result of a struggle. A tear at the shoulder, a tear near the strings, and a tear down the center of the back.

When Zesshi held up the dress, Bertra went back to her knees and lowered her head to the Queen's feet. "I swear... I am telling the truth. He did this to me, and I have absolutely no doubt he's done it to others. I didn't come forward for exactly the reasons you saw in public. People called me a slut, a whore, a jealous liar who he must have rejected, nobody knew anything, but they were already jumping to his defense, and what could I offer except for a torn dress? One look at his charming smile, good looks, fine clothes, not to mention his great reputation, and what chance does a nameless peasant bookshop owner have? I'm already screwed."

The word choice was bitter and ironic, and that was not lost on the half elven Queen. She set the dress to one side and scratched her cheek.

"I didn't think I could get justice, but I didn't want him to just walk away like it hadn't happened either so... that was all I could think of to do. But now you know... My Queen... what will you do? Arrest me? Punish me? Exile me?" The possibilities ran rampant through her mind, but she couldn't let it go unsaid again, as she thought of the rainbow of paint colors repeating her first words to the world on the matter, she felt she had to say something. 'For the ones who never could and never will.' She thought, and looking up at the silent Queen she said it again. "Your Highness, "Lovien of House Alu has raped me, I beg you... give me justice... Please."

Finally, Zesshi spoke.

"I believe you."


	41. Bloody Mother & Bravery

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 40: Bloody Mother & Bravery

_...Nazarick Lab…_

"Explain yourself." Albedo demanded, "I've already seen what she did to the Devor raiding party, she did an excellent job, tore them to pieces without a problem and without killing anyone she shouldn't have."

Vanysa's grip didn't slacken… "People are most in danger when they think they're safest, most vulnerable when they're at their most relaxed. I love Demiurge, I'm proud of him, but you know our strategy, show her to be an indiscriminate monster, and she'll be convicted. What better way than to put her into a berserker rage right when she's least prepared for it, when she thinks she's succeeded, she's on her way back from the border, and that's when he'll hit her with a followup Devor attack. He was hoping she'd kill everything in the fort and save him the trouble, but when that didn't happen…" Vanysa's eyes welled up, "Please don't tell him I told you, at least until after the trial is over. But… you have to get her out of there, if she kills a bunch of minotaur civilians during a Devor raid… it's all over."

Albedo looked down at the demoness, who clung desperately to Albedo's arms the entire time, "Why are you telling me this 'now', why not before?"

Vanysa's eyes were as resolute as they were vulnerable and clouded, and her words were a choked struggle as if she were trying to drink and speak at the same time. "I...I have my orders. I work directly for Demiurge, and my orders were to prosecute her. But His Majesty also gave me an order, that 'outside of court' I was charged with her absolute protection, even to the cost of my life. I only just learned today that she's out of custody. That gives me the 'opening' to tell you this… it's a loophole, but it's one I'm crawling through… please… if she falls into his trap, and walks into court covered with minotaur blood and fur, they'll convict her for that alone!"

Albedo looked down at the little demoness, and found no lie in her. "Alright, I'll need my armor, she should be crossing the border today, I'll just have to dispose of the trash he sends out, and we'll have no problem."

"Yes… that will work well too." Vanysa said as the sweating and hard breathing began to ebb. She wiped her golden brow and then bit her lip, "I guess I've got to turn myself in for punishment though." She pouted, "I kept one order but broke another to do it."

"I am the Guardian Overseer, I'll determine your punishment later. Like cleaning up after one of Shalltear's 'sessions' with her vampire brides." Albedo said it haughtily, but the sparkle in her eye was mocking, though it caused Vanysa to shudder.

"And I thought 'I' was the sadist." She muttered, and Albedo walked out laughing as she went to don her armor.

Within an hour, she was beyond the Devor border, her invincible armor on and her bardiche in hand. Concealing herself was a simple matter, she thought back to the way Demiurge liked to operate, big flashy entrances, a dramatic show of power, and then let his terrified subordinates handle the grunt work. But here, he would likely have disguised himself as some form of beastman, carrying out orders to draw others out. A smile formed beneath her armor and her golden eyes shone like the sun. 'May the best demon win… indeed.' She thought smugly. She went first to the fort and confirmed that he'd led soldiers of the Devor to it, though she was idly curious about what story he'd spin to get… her thoughts halted. 'Wait… how many would it take to drive her to extremes?' Albedo pondered the matter for a moment. 'Not many.' She answered her own question as she sardonically thought of how far she went to punish those who made her angry.

She dismissed the matter, and resolved to ask Demiurge about what lie he'd spun when the trial was over.

She left the burnt out ruin that her daughter and her daughter's companion had made, a look of almost maternal pride hit her as she looked at the pile of burnt up corpses, shattered, broken, cut, it was like she had the undead's innate hatred of the living buried somewhere in her soul. "Hmmm, My Lord did bring her back from the dead… she's devoted herself to him, tapped into his power, perhaps she's tapping into his nature too, given enough time, I wonder… what would she change into?" She pondered that aloud and looked one more time at the pleasant vista of destruction the Scourge of God had wrought, and stepped through the gate to the next logical ambush point.

She heard shouting in the distance as soon as she came through the gate, her keen senses picked out Neia's voice, but also abundant shouts of joy, as the minotaurs she'd rescued made it over the border and were suddenly reunited with loved ones that believed their family and friends to be lost forever.

In the opposite direction of the border, she picked up the sound of fast approaching beastmen. Their feet pounded on the ground and gave it a definitive quake, they weren't within hearing range of Neia or her company of rescues yet, but Albedo knew how many there were without any effort at all. 'A company, around three hundred, their pace says they know their prey is over the border, Demiurge no doubt informed them, showed them the site, and drew them here ahead of when they otherwise would have, clever Demon, either Neia would kill her own by accident, or she'd get the ones she rescued, and the rest, all killed trying to save the ones she did… either way, it would be the end for her at trial.'

She let out a sadistic grin as she listened more closely, trying to find Demiurge's voice, and finding it absent. 'Figures. Probably spun a yarn about reporting it and then left like nothing happened.'

She stepped casually out onto the road, and tapped the butt of her bardiche into the dust impatiently. She didn't trade words, they appeared on the horizon, saw the lone armored warrior, knew she could not be one of them, and they did not wait either.

Howls for blood carried to her ears, and they waited for the inevitable flight, and then her wings, undetectable folded behind her, sprang out, though it did not pause their charge, it paused their hearts. And the demonic howl burst out of her mouth and stilled their roars, she flew like a crossbow launched from its stock, her bardiche held in both hands, she was near their front before they understood she was taking the fight to them.

The bardiche cut through seven of them, and would have done more had its blade a longer reach, and knocked another four flying into their comrades with such force that skulls and bones all broke and shattered. "Die!" She howled as the next rank tried to close, only to find that she snapped the first arm to come close and she then used the hapless body of the bear man as a club to bash the next four to him into the ground hard enough to kill them.

Her own aura smashed down, squeezing the life out of the weaker, but she restrained it… just enough, that others would live… and regret it. "You dare! You dare come for my house! You worthless lower lifeforms!" She howled her hatred and grabbed a tigerman by his fur, and ripped skin and muscle off down to the bone, peeling him away like an orange, and casting the pelt over another, who was lucky not to see the bardiche sever his body in half from head to balls. Her bardiche cut through their finest armor as if it wasn't there, and howls of sadistic pleasure ripped from her ample bosom as the faceless nightmare knight seemingly ripped from the nightmares of beastmen themselves, emerged impossibly from the stories told to frighten their young, descended on them.

But cowardice was not in their nature, and those hundreds alive, swarmed around her, their worthless blows were a light and gentle spring rain to a mountain, and her hands ripped into flesh, ripping bones out of the living and using them as weapons on the brothers in arms nearest them, her bardiche could not even be nicked, and she laughed at their weakness, shredding their flesh, far more slowly than she had to, as this was more to her than a mere massacre… 'Punishment… they must be PUNISHED for what they came to do!' As she could not help but laugh as she recalled the same words coming from Neia's own lips on more than one occasion in some form as she exercised the power of their common Lord.

Tl'katan was transfixed by the horror before him as the armored woman ripped into his comrades and tore through them like their armor wasn't there and their bodies were wet paper to a sharp blade. The faceless horror tore his best friend in half, and without flinching or showing any effort, threw half the body into someone else hard enough that their skull shattered. 'How… how can this be?! We were supposed to chase down one interloper and a handful of escapees! What in the abyss is this?!' He shouted inside his head as he roared like the lionman he was and attempted to imbue her with fear, only to hear the thing laugh at him, and make him her next target.

He tried to bring his ax to bear, but she was gone in a flash, he froze, and managed to look behind him, she was standing in a battle posture used by someone who had finished a swing and blood dripped from the massive bardiche, he looked down. His arms were gone, and his torso was sliding off his legs. He toppled back with a howl of pain a moment later, and screamed out his last, flopping in the dirt. He never roared again.

Albedo reveled in the slaughter, sometimes soaring above them just for mockery, just out of reach, to catch them if they tried to run, and whittled them down, there were no words but her occasional soul shattering demonic cry, and every second they were losing more.

Tl'minka was breathing hard, his company of three hundred was down to two hundred within the span of a minute, and to one hundred by the next minute, and the demon that found them was just mocking them, almost dancing through the air as she floated overhead in a lithe little bounce in front of their ranks before she swooped down and peeled off another layer of their formation, or dropped down in the center to rip some apart before rising again.

'What did we do! Lords of the Abyss! Save your servants! Sun Lord, give us your light that we may see through this shadow!' he prayed fervently, but the tigerman heard no answer from the sun or the abyss, there was only a demonic cry that reveled in killing his warriors. Anyone who fled, was instantly skewered and then torn apart, anyone who didn't flee, died anyway.

If there was a reason for the slaughter, he couldn't fathom it, until inspiration hit him when the demon went above their formation with one of their own, and ripped his body in half at the torso, and dropped twitching legs and screaming torso down on the remainder, injuring several who couldn't get out of the way. "You! You're a summon of the Minotaurs aren't you! Those bastards found a way to command you! Tell your summoner we'll pay them well to work for us, even if they're a minotaur, power like yours… is worth overlooking anything, if they want females, we'll give him all the females they want to use, if they want males, well so what, the same! If they want wealth… just stop!" He cried out, hoping that the summoner on the other end of the demon puppet would hear.

For a moment… he felt his mouth fall open in a near laugh of relief, the demonic being stopped, and simply floated there in front of the remaining thirty-one of the beastmen.

It seemed whoever was on the other end, was considering the offer, then the thing moved so fast it wasn't even a blur, and all thirty fell with their legs cut off just above the knees, and the demon stood in front of him, he looked down as her hand took his throat with impossible strength and started to squeeze. Her bardiche was being slowly pushed into his body.

"No… pl-ease." He gasped out and clawed desperately at the vice that was her hand, his gold eyes bulged with terror as he realized she was picking him up… with the blade in his body, effectively sawing him in half from the inside. He gurgled and broke his teeth with the force of his desperate clenching of his jaw.

"I am no summon, you pathetic insect." Albedo said as she lifted him up, blood and entrails began to slip out. "I'm just being 'me'. Do you know the difference between a good mother, and a great one?…" She whispered the question to the dying tigerman as another inch of his body was cut open. Blood came out of his mouth and spittle flecked madly as the pain drove him insane.

"A good mother… she bleeds to protect her children from those who would harm them. But… a great mother, she makes the ones who would hurt her children, do the bleeding instead. Now… bleed for me, and make me the best of mothers." She laughed as she lifted him up further, and the bardiche cut its way down his body as he was pulled through the unmoving weapon, his legs kicked and spasmed, entrailed began to fall down to the dirt below, and the light left his eyes just as it was reaching his groin.

She felt his death throws, the body was dead, and that was that. She dropped him in a heap, and looked around in smug satisfaction. "That is 'Check' Demiurge." She grinned with satisfaction as she listened in the distance, those beyond the border had heard nothing, and Demiurge would not know his gambit had failed.

She then opened the gate, and was gone. Leaving only the dead, and already from the evertree, animals were crawling out, and dragging the bodies away, or eating them where they fell. Within a day or two, there would be nothing but red dusty stains in the road, and within a few days after that, nothing at all, but some bones deep within the wood that would never be found, and a mystery that would never be solved.

_...Crescent Lake..._

Bertra's eyes lit up like stars. "You... believe me?"

Zesshi set the dress aside gently. "I do. But you're asking for the harder path. You're asking for justice, not just revenge." She put her hands on Bertra's shoulders. "I'm sorry I was rough with you before, when I realized it was you... well, court politics isn't something I'm good at yet, I thought you were playing at something, because how could anyone take advantage of someone like you?"

Bertra smiled bitterly, "Not all strength is physical, he's a rich noble, I'm a bookshop owner with a few friends, maybe I'm not exactly poor, but I'm a peasant now, he could ruin my life by sitting behind a desk, signing a few papers, and he wouldn't even get tired. The only way I had to fight back... was just another way to ruin everything. Financially, publicly, or legally... I was no more powerful compared to him... than Aorli was compared to you."

"You still should have come to me." Queen Zesshi admonished her, "We might not be friends but, I have kept your secret, nobody knows who you are, or were at least. And I haven't forgotten what you said that day, I haven't forgotten either, all the work you did beside Raymond to save what you could of my people. You finished right, and for the right reason. I'm not as wise as His Majesty, but I'm not so petty that I'd sit on my throne while savoring some cruelty toward you because it is ironic in some way."

Bertra's lips parted as she breathed slowly and went on. "And I'm still a peasant. We don't visit the palace much, you know. I haven't seen you since the day you came into this shop, except at a distance, and that's fine, you have your job, your life, and I have mine. I'm grateful enough that you let me have that." Bertra fixed her hair with her hands as Zesshi helped her to her feet.

"My job, Berenice... or Bertra now, I guess, is giving justice to my people and governing well. If I allow him to do that to you, and to my other people, I'm failing you all. Aorli would never look at me the same way again if I just let this go. His Majesty has a special hatred for certain kinds of crimes, this being among them. He'd never permit me to let that happen to you as some form of petty revenge for a conversation we had what... almost five years ago now?" Zesshi reached over and handed the dress back.

"Th-Thank you... but what will you do? You're not wrong, it's harder to get justice than revenge, and all I can prove is that I invited him over, drank with him, and... well, he'll just make me out to be some whore who rutted with him to get something out of it!" Bitter tears forced their way out again, but she wiped her eyes fiercely and held the Queen's eyes in her own without flinching.

"Are you willing to come forward publicly?" Queen Zesshi asked.

Bertra's mouth closed. "I don't know, what if nobody believes me, I could lose my friends, my customers, I could lose everything! Do I have to... Your Highness?"

"Think about it for now, but no, I won't force you. Do what is best for you. But if you want justice, well, only his victims can get him there." Zesshi took Berenice's hand in between both of her own, "Come to my home tomorrow, and tell me your decision, whatever it is."

Bertra nodded, "Alright, I will. And... thank you."

Zesshi didn't answer, there was no need, she simply walked out of the shop, closed the door behind her, and walked back to her palace in the darkness.

Bertra went to bed, and laid there staring up into the empty void, she usually preferred to sleep without clothing, the warm night air made that most comfortable, and her home was a place of safety, but this night, she laid uncomfortably in night clothing. 'Another thing taken away... even in my own bed in my own home... I feel like I need protection.' She pondered as she stared up into the night, she thought of one of the biographies she'd edited recently, the elf remembered the words of the woman now on trial so far away. "Your choices are only limited by your fear of the consequences, overcome those, and no fear can touch you, then you can do anything. That way you'll have the strength to seize justice done for yourself, with your own hands, and nothing short of death can stop you."

"Never thought I'd take advice from the Demon of the West." Bertra said out loud as she slid out of bed, tore off the uncomfortable clothing, and took her choice, and her comfort, back. She made her choice, and went to sleep.

When morning came, she bathed, dressed, and got ready to go, but no sooner did she open the door, than she saw Soren standing there, he hadn't made to open the door himself, he was just... standing there.

"Soren why..." She was about to ask when he cut her off.

"Are you OK?" He asked with his eyes expanding as he stared down at her. She craned her neck back.

"Yes, or, rather, I will be." She said.

"It was him wasn't it? Lovien." He whispered.

Bertra nodded, "You worked it out?"

"Wasn't hard. I may look it, but I'm not stupid, just a bit dirty sometimes, the way you reacted, couldn't be anyone else... that's how I got such a good deal." She wasn't sure if he was asking, or suggesting.

She stepped back and motioned him into the Brighter Days Book Shop. He ducked his head under the door, and entered, then she shut the door behind him.

"Yes. I was... I was just, well, he was making threats, sort of..." She began and he cut her off.

"You don't owe me an answer. You didn't have to do that for me... I'd rather go under, than get my friends hurt." He insisted with a vigorous shaking of his head on a thick, thick neck.

Bertra put her hand up on his chest, "It wasn't really about you, not for me... I just... I wanted to feel like I had control again, like I actually had a say, a choice, to use that as an excuse to pretend there wasn't something wrong with what was happening. I just wanted my life to feel normal again... it didn't work but... this will."

"What's 'this'?" He asked as he shuffled his feet and looked at the floor, unable to work out what to say.

"I'm going to accuse him publicly, I know he's been saying all kinds of terrible things about these anonymous accusers, cowards, sluts, jealous whores, conspirators against the very crown, well, lets see what he does when he's got someone to aim at. I'm not going to let him have this one, I'm taking my justice in my own hands, with my own voice, I'll tell the whole damn world what he did, and let them believe me or not, but one way or the other, he's NOT going to have any more control over my life after this!"

"Well... would you like some moral support?" Soren asked gingerly, "I'm a bit dense on these things but... nobody should stand alone against anything that can hurt them, if they don't have to."

"You're what a friend is supposed to be, thank you." Bertra grinned high up at the big blushing face.

"So where are we going?" He asked, scratching his head uncertainly.

"The Palace, but... in a roundabout sort of way. First stop is the square where the trial is normally broadcast, if I remember the schedule, a minotaur holy day is taking place today, so there's nothing going on." Bertra answered brusquely.

"What do you want to do there?" He did not look less confused, or scratch his head less.

"Well, I want 'you' to handle a few barrels for me, you're taller than I am, and I want to be seen, then, just stand there nearby so I know I have one friend at hand." She let her hand drop away from his body and asked, "Can you handle that?"

"Yeah, yeah I can." He said with a cherubic grin.

"Then come on." She said, and left the Brighter Days Bookshop, and strode with back straight and full of purpose directly to the great square where booths were plentiful and foot traffic was even moreso.

It was a busy day, even by midmorning standards as she made her way to the spot where Zesshi had laughed at one of Lovien's jokes. A few barrels and crates sat in the alley that jutted out at an angle from it, and she pointed to them. "Those will be fine, just make a stairway so I can get up easily." She said to him, and he didn't respond with anything but action, he went and promptly pulled them out, handling the enormous things like they were individual books.

Soon a small crude stairway of barrels and crates stood up, two wide, with two flat crates at the top for even footing. "Thank you, Soren. Now this part is up to me." Bertra said, and raised her knees high as she climbed up to the top, she looked out over the square, her heart pounded in her breast, people began to notice her standing up there, she wore a simple dress of vibrant green and eye catching white, her hair hung long behind her, she didn't have to emphasize anything about herself to be noteworthy, even among a comely people like the wood elves.

But most of all was the oddity of her standing up there looking out over them like a figurehead at the bow of a ship. The analogy occurred to her, and she closed her eyes, 'Someone has to lead, and if that's to be my final act in this city, so be it, but I'd rather leave it with my soul intact, than live here with him holding onto it, while he does who knows what to others who cross his path.'

Her eyes popped open, and the 'figurehead' spoke. "My name is Bertra! I am the owner of Brighter Days Bookshop. And..." her loud voice, shouted over the din, and her prominent position gave people pause, heads turned from where people sat, servers stopped taking orders, sales halted in mid-transaction, she swallowed hard. "And I was raped by Lovien of House Alu!"

A pin could have dropped. She went on to tell her story. When it was finished... she began again.

"My name is Bertra! I am the owner of Brighter Days Bookshop..." And so she went, repeating her story louder and louder, she said it four times before she added something else.

"Yes, I wrote the first words accusing him! I'm the one who was first called a jealous whore, a grasper, a slut, a conspirator, and who knows what else! But I ONLY wrote once per night! All others know why they wrote!"

She then began again, "My name is Bertra! I am the owner of Brighter Days Bookshop..."

On the far side of the great square, a woman selling apples was looking at her with rapt attention, and her customer, a young man she'd called a friend for seventy years, said, "Can you believe her, saying something like that about a great man like Lord Lovien?"

The merchant girl looked at her companion, her eyes wet, her hand shaking, she gave him back his money and closed his fist over it. He looked confused. His eyes going down to his hand and back up to her face.

"Wait here." She said softly, and walked across the square where Bertra was on her sixth retelling of events.

She approached the improvised, crude stage, where the behemoth of an elf stood watch, as soon as he saw her face, he stepped aside, and, she smiled weakly, and walked to the crude steps. She climbed up behind Bertra, and tapped her on the leg.

Bertra's eyes went down behind her, and she held out her hand, and helped the woman up, once she was up. Bertra hopped down.

She did not have the skill or projection of the practiced former Cardinal, but she was herself, and that was all she needed in that moment. She shouted it out, choking sometimes, but yelling as much as she could for all to hear. "My name is Iyara, I am the fruit vendor who sells here in this very square! I was raped by Lovien of House Alu..."

When her story ended, she began again. "My name is Iyara! I am the fruit vendor..."

In the crowd, the cobbler sat with his wife, enjoying a pleasant day off, he watched Bertra with mute incomprehension. "Why would Bertra lie like that... she never seemed the sort...?"

He stopped when the fruit vendor got up. "Oh, well sure there can be two liars, who knows why, but Lovien's been good to us. We know better..." He stopped dead when he saw his wife's face.

"Where do you think I went last night? He did it to me too. Why do you think you got such a 'good deal'? While you were gone... that's why I was in bed for two days after you got back..." She whimpered out.

"You... he... but you told me you were sick..." He stammered out as he stared at his wife as she failed to look him in the eye for the first time in their ninety year marriage.

"Sick... because of what he'd done to me, I couldn't look at you, couldn't look at our house, I thought... all this time, I thought I was the only one, he made me think I'd asked for it, so that you and I could get a better deal... but he implied we might get nothing... and all that work… so when he reached out... when he touched me, I asked..." So the story spilled out of her at last, as her husband swore and cursed under his breath.

"You couldn't protect me from the Elf King. I never resented you for that, nobody could have fought that monster back then. But now? Now either you believe me, or you leave me, but it's true. What they're saying is TRUE." She said forcefully and fiercely.

"Make up your mind, but if you don't believe me when I get back to this table, don't be at it." She said sadly as he stared mutely as his world turned upside down and his 'benefactor' was flipped into a predator in the span it takes to finish a cup of iced tea after a hard run. She walked across the square, and mounted the improvised stage, and took her turn.

Word spread like wildfire through the city that some of the accusers against Lovien had become public. As word spread, the question of what to do about the disruption became more and more demanding on the city guard. The crowd just kept growing, two more women showed up and took their places on stage, and by midafternoon the women speaking were ten in number. It was only then that guards began to push their way to the fore.

"Please, come with us." The guardsman asked, uncomfortable and confused as he looked at the women who had arrayed themselves in front of the speaker.

"Are we under arrest?" Bertra snapped out.

He shook his head, "No, we're escorting you to the palace, you're going before Her Royal Highness, Queen Zesshi."

"Good. She's been expecting me, I hope I didn't keep her waiting." Bertra said, and reached girl at the top crouched, took Bertra's hand, and hopped down with a little help.

"Mind the shop for me, would you Soren? I don't want some petty revenge by Lovien on my place, and I'm sure he's heard of this by now." Bertra asked.

He grinned sheepishly, "I've got it."

"And I've got this." She said with a fierce grin on her face that reminded him vaguely of a wolf that has smelled blood.

The guards took up a wing formation on either side of the women, but they didn't walk quietly. Bertra immediately began yelling when they broke through the crowd, repeating her one sentence assertion for anyone and everyone to hear, stunned at first by what she was doing, the others walking behind her picked it up... and carried the phrase like a battle cry all the way to the doors of the palace, under the uncomprehending eyes of elves who never expected their day to have a sight like that.

When she was in the palace court, Bertra went down on one knee, fist to the floor and eyes downcast.

"Well, you've been busy." Zesshi said flatly.

"Yes, Your Highness." Bertra said, adopting the unofficial status as spokeswoman for the little band.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" Zesshi asked evenly as she steepled her fingers together in front of herself on the throne.

"Your Highness, I, and all of these women here, were raped by Lovien of House Alu, and in your sacred title as Queen, and in the name of His Majesty, the Sorcerer King, who rules over all, I ask in all our names, that you grant us justice for what was done."

The words hung in the air, nobles and other patrons of the royal court were looking back and forth at one another as they struggled to catch up with the events of the day.

"That's what the other four said also, more or less." Zesshi said bluntly, "A few got caught doing graffiti last night as it turns out, one... got away, but the other four say the same as you. Well... a public accusation has been made, so it must be answered. We'll hold a trial here and now, and, and my two chief advisors here, will judge." She gestured to Thirg and Tefl Dahn.

"Now, someone go fetch Lovien of House Alu, he's going to answer for these charges, and bring him here yesterday." Zesshi said without any evident passion in her voice, but Bertra, who well remembered Zesshi from her Theocracy days, saw a little spark in her eyes, and little gestures with her hands, that suggested there was more behind her blank expression than her body language suggested.

"As you say, Your Highness. I'm eager for justice to be done." Bertra replied, and fell quiet as the Queen nodded in agreement, and the door behind them slammed shut as guards rushed to go and find Lovien.


	42. The Reason to Live

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 41: The Reason to Live

...Minotaur Kingdom Border...

"What... the hell. That's a... a lot of wagons." Mu'Lysa said to her partner on the border wall. She raised her meaty fist and pointed out what she saw in the distance.

Mu'Kyla raised her hand parallel to her brow to shade her eyes from the sun, and looked into the distance. "I don't see any, just a dot."

Mu'Lysa rolled her eyes, "Ugh, you're worthless on the watch, Mu'Kyla. I swear you'd not even notice a beastman till he was right up your ass." She laughed at her partner, huffing repeatedly as she put her hands on her sides.

Mu'Kyla glared at her. "No I'm not, you're just gifted with double sight, they only put me up here with you so you don't take naps all day and actually 'use' your eyes. And so they have 'someone' here who can actually count higher than seven. Now quit with the jokes and tell me what you see. Do I need to raise the alarm?"

Mu'Lysa looked in silence, her eyes very intent for a few moments before she said, "No, those are trade wagons, and... a LOT of them, A lot a lot. And..." Her jaw fell open... "No waaaay..."

"What? What no way, you dense cow?!" Mu'Kyla exclaimed in alarm at the change in Mu'Lysa's expression.

"I counted to seven, seven times and three more times after that, so however many that is, but... but the horses, they're being pulled by undead horses!" Mu'Lysa shouted in fear. "And they're moving... so fast, even you will be able to see them in a few minutes you blind heifer! Go put on a cowbell and shake it for them like the last noble to pass through these gates if you want, but go raise the alarm and get a squad out here. There are 'humans' on those wagons!"

The guards on the walls were redoubled with the sound of the Kiril's horns being blown, minotaur hooves ran up the fifty foot wall that controlled the pass between the Beastman Kingdom of Rargnan and the Minotaur Kingdom, nervous looks were abound as the horn had not gone off for years... but there on the western border, strength enough to stand firm and hold weapons at the ready, still existed. Shoulder to shoulder they stood ready to meet the threat, and the nervousness of a potential threat gave way to confusion when the farseer girl announced what her long sight had shown her.

Even the bravest can be frightened by sudden terrors, and this unknown did little to alleviate their concerns, until the sound began to reach them as more and more of the wagons began to come into view. "Are they... singing?" Mu'Kyla asked as her ear twitched over to catch the sound a little better.

"I think so." Mu'Lysa replied, her eyes focused in, "Yes, I mean they're armed, but lightly, this definitely isn't a war party, can you tell what they're saying?"

"Not exactly... but it doesn't sound like a war song, they sound, honestly, remember that festival a few years ago?" Mu'Kyla asked as she held her hand up to her ear to catch a little more.

"The one where you got drunk, put the bell around your neck, bent over in front of the captain and told him to 'make it ring, daddy', and the rest of the guys kept chanting 'more cowbell' for thirty minutes straight? How could I forget?" Mu'Lysa laughed long and hard as Mu'Kyla stamped her hoof.

"I meant the 'music' you fucking prude. They sound like they're singing festive music, sure there are undead horses, but they're being used as work animals. I think we should send out a delegate." Mu'Kyla replied with annoyance at her idiot war sister.

"Fine, fine, I'll do it." Mu'Lysa replied, and jogged down the steps, her hooves clip-clopping rapidly as she descended down the tower steps until she'd come to the large double sized gates, opened it, and exited.

She wasn't long in waiting, drawn by undead horses, within a few minutes she found herself holding an ax at the ready while a human delegate with a cherub face and a cheerful demeanor in fine black and green clothing waved to her. "'Lo there, miss!" He said happily.

"Ah, yes, hello, what's your business here?" She asked as she stared a little anxiously at the undead horses that stood like statues in front of her. They were bones and scraps of flesh, not even eyes in their heads, they didn't have an air of malice about them, but nor did they have any air of 'anything' about them, creating an eerie effect, like being stared at by a painting whose eyes followed her wherever she went.

"Trading. We're from the Sorcerous Empire, commissioned as a mission of goodwill by Vice Commander Skana and the head of the merchant's guild in the west, Guildmaster Tinamoc. I have a letter, and it's been stamped by the minotaur representative in the west, authorizing passage through the border, and on to the capital and the surrounding cities." He explained cheerily as he reached slowly into his shirt and drew out a sealed letter. He handed it down to her, and she took it in her hand, the letter all but disappeared in her large fingers, but she broke the seal dexterously and unfolded the triple folded paper and read over it.

"Not farther east?" She asked as she looked up at him, still holding the letter in both hands for reading.

"No, apparently the Minotaur Kingdom representative informed master Tinamoc that the east of your kingdom was far too dangerous for merchants to go without a large escort, we've brought only six soldiers per wagon, enough to handle common bandits but... from what I understand, Devor raiders come in the hundreds. So he wasn't willing to authorize more distant travel." The merchant's face wore a look she read as disappointment, a sense she shared herself, she huffed in acknowledgement.

"What do you carry?" She asked in a professional tone.

"Adamantite and Orichalcum ingots, some samples of runecrafted and magicine equipment, though little of the latter, they're only samples, enough to equip a personal guard for a wealthy noble. Also we're carrying more common trade goods, children's toys, beer preserving barrels... though not many of the latter unfortunately, they take up too much space. But, mostly smithing stuff, figure without the mines in your possession anymore, they'll sell for a good price." His eyes glinted when he smiled, and that was when she knew without doubt.

'He is 'definitely' a merchant, and he's not wrong... selling enough ingots of adamantite or orichalcum for even one set of full armor would make enough money for someone to live off of for half a year.' She thought to herself and then drew a stamp from her belt and affixed it to the letter after resting it in her palm. She handed it back to him, "Very well, if it has our representative's approval already, it's fine. No inspection necessary, just do me one small favor?" She asked gingerly.

"What's that?" He asked curiously as he slowly reached out, took the folded letter of approval, and returned it to his pocket.

"Don't gouge our smiths too hard on those ingots." She said with some regret, "Times are tough these days, and they were right not to let you farther east, even though you'd get some of the best deals there." She threw that tidbit of information out, and it had the desired effect as she saw his eyes twitch with the sense of opportunity at hand.

'Definitely a merchant.' She thought with satisfaction.

"Well, more's the pity, but that time will come soon enough, once our temples start staffing themselves with Black Justice escorts on site, we'll be able to hire enough that... well, let's just say the Devor would be wise to stay home that day." His grin became predatory and he threw back his head with a savage laugh, one echoed by those behind him who could hear their exchange.

"I hope you're right." Mu'Lysa said pleasantly and looked up, "It's clear, open up!"

"Thank's miss! I appreciate the information about the east, and I'll pass that on, maybe that will inspire our leaders to move the process up a bit." He waved to her as the gates groaned open, and the wagons moved forward, more slowly than before, as he tried to keep the soldiers above at ease, while their eyes bugged out of their heads at the impossible sight of undead drawn carts entering their nation.

...Menowa...

Albedo reappeared in the capital, without ever going to see Neia after having slaughtered those who had intended to do her harm. She had briefly considered a stop in Nazarick to change, but thought, 'No, this will throw Demiurge off his game... and I can't wait to see his face when he connects the dots.' She smirked as she appeared at the top of the stairs and walked down to her table, just in time for Cardinal Raymond to come forth for what he said would be the last of his memories of his time in the Slane Theocracy as a ruler, priest, and citizen.

It was another three hours before it began to wind down.

Raymond had dark circles under his eyes, a haggard look for all the world to see, he was worn out, tired, exhausted, all three at once and then some, he told them everything, he left out nothing. Finally, he said, "I... I think that's everything." In a voice that was barely above a whisper, "I... have said everything I know. I stood but a short time in the heights of power of the Slane Theocracy, being the youngest of their number. But as commander of all the Scriptures... it was my choice to send the Holocaust Scripture West, as well as the Black Scripture, which brought down Gustav Montagne, I sent the Windflower North, and the Gray to the Northern Holy Kingdom, to hunt down and kill Neia Baraja, Skana Baraja, and as many of her people as they could. I participated in numerous operations that killed many..."

He coughed, violently hard for a moment as his voice cracked, and took gratefully a cup of water from a nearby minotaur, he drank it down so quickly that some of it spilled down his cheeks as if even his lips could weep. "That killed many who did not deserve to die... they died because of what flesh they were born in, they died because... because my country called them evil for existing, said they were our enemies... and trained us all our lives to hunt and kill them all. It was the same for the elves, when the war began... it didn't take long to decide the whole race was fit for nothing but slavery and death. That was long before my time... but I went to school in my country, and I know what we were all taught for all our lives." Raymond struggled to keep his eyes up, but he managed, and it was said to be one of the quietest days in the history of humanity, or any other race that saw him speak.

"I can offer no defense for myself except to say that I knew no other world growing up but that one. I... I should have known better, but I didn't. I spent all my life thinking I was a good man, only to find myself, there in the middle of my life, to be an evil one, an accidental villain... and I spent the rest of the war, trying in vain to make it right. I saved who I could, how I could, and turned on my nation, abandoned my gods... the girl from before... she was one such, who hid within my house, who saved my life once. I killed my own people all the way through Kami Miyako, hunting down the worst of masters and mistresses so that I could cheaply buy up slaves, to save and hide as many as I could in the work camps, away from any harm."

He ensured that his eyes caught those of minotaur leadership as he went on, hoping that at least he could repay the Sorcerer King in this way, 'Let it be remembered before the world, that His Majesty, put his wealth to the lives of nonhumans, that at least, will serve him well in the future.' He thought, before he went on. "In that, I had the support of the Sorcerer King, who donated gold to the efforts of myself and two of my comrades, Cardinal Berenice and Cardinal Ginedine, who saved as many as I did, and then died trying to kill Cardinal Dominic. I know I can never make up for what role I played in that. No words of mine can say... more than 'I'm sorry'... but even that... even that is not enough."

Finally Raymond could keep his head raised for only a little more, it all felt heavy, heavier than the burden of leadership, many times over, is the guilt of confessing wrong. "I won't ask this world's forgiveness. I don't deserve it, a few months as a good man, does not erase a lifetime as a villain." He swallowed hard and yanked his chained wrists up and snapped them taut, wanting to open his arms but being unable to do so, he looked up to where the magic casters were capturing every image and the demons overhead, every sound, all to be relayed to the cities of the empire, and he shouted, "I'm SORRY!" Before he went quiet as his unburdening began to fade to a whisper, and his face fell, "I'm... sorry. That's all."

So he stood, a broken man.

Albedo stood up and looked at him, and he raised his head slowly, "Tell me, Cardinal Raymond, the woman you begged for mercy, the woman you tried to have killed, the woman whose wife your scripture mutilated... do you believe her to be deserving of punishment?"

Raymond heard his heart beating in his breast, he recalled the Sorcerer King's words, 'All I want is for you to tell the truth, nothing but.'

He swallowed, 'With one word... I could kill her, just say yes... and this might convict her and kill her and I could avenge...' His thought vanished as he remembered the wrecked look in those demonic eyes, the way she talked about watching a soul be born and die in the midst of a nightmare, he thought of Nua, how she'd come to life, found her courage and strength, and begged him to either kill her, or his faith in the gods that called her an animal... he tried to imagine the light leaving her eyes, and at his core a burning rage rose up that he did not expect. 'If that caught fire in the rest of my soul... how far would I really go?' He wondered.

Finally, he answered, "That is a complicated answer... may I say more than a word?" Raymond asked the adjudicator.

"Answer as you think best." The behemoth beneath the hood replied.

"I... I don't think that a lot of what she did was right! Yes, a lot was wrong, very wrong... I don't think anyone should just walk away from that. But... at the same time... I don't believe she deserves to die. It was part of our national goal, remember, to break or kill her, it was what Remedios dreamt of nightly, we set monsters after her, to do terrible things to torment her whenever we couldn't strike her directly. I... I remember something that Ainz's other representative said in my presence years ago in the closing days of the war. She said, 'If we hate demons so much, we should stop making them.'"

He pursed his lips tight and clenched his fists around the edge of the stone podium at which he stood. "We helped make that monster, what she did, is at least partially our fault, we created horrors enough to drive decent people mad, even hearing it, some of those minotaurs in this very pavilion, have grown sick, many around the empire, no doubt had to leave just hearing it as well. But... she couldn't leave, and she saw it in person, up close... again... and again, and again... for year after year after year. I ask you to remember... she fought against the Demon Emperor Jaldabaoth, and then had to fight the remnants over the years between that war and the end of the last one, and she was barely more than a child of fifteen summers. Now she is a woman in her twenties but... she has grown up knowing nothing but the war and violence that sought her out. Yes... she does deserve some punishment."

He stepped away from the podium and walked to the middle of the court, and sweeping it with one final gaze he said, "But if you want to hang her for what she did... then hang every king, every prince, every queen, every princess. Hang every general, hang every noble, hang every priest of the old gods. Hang every chieftain and every warrior who ever went over any border ever, hang every emperor and empress, hang every single one of them, because I tell you none of what created the Demon of the West, could be possible, or would have happened, if NOT for the world leaders of our age defining how we should regard one another! It is a wonder she was not worse than she was. Does that answer your question?" He asked Lady Albedo, before shuffling back to the podium.

"It does, thank you." She said, standing there in her marvelous armor, the picture of lethal and the picture of beauty with her helmet beside her. "But I have another. I'd like the court to know, 'why' you're doing this? Are you being offered a plea deal? Are you going to go free, be spared the death penalty? What?"

Raymond took another drink of water from the nearby minotaur, drank deeply, but slowly, then answered with conviction, "Because I knew the truth!" He exclaimed and threw the stone cup down hard enough for it to shatter, its pieces scattering wildly over the floor, skittering to a stop only when they struck steps or walls.

"When I was first thrown into prison after my surrender of Kami Miyako, I was low, I did give serious thought to hanging myself in there. But I chose to stay alive, I chose to stay alive because I was the last, I was the only one who knew everything!" His voice kept getting louder as he spoke, rising with passion and anger with every word, "Because somebody... SOMEBODY after centuries of our behavior, had to say THIS HAPPENED! Someone who would be believed, known, recognized! Someone who could say... YES the human fathers who got children from their use of elven concubines, often sold their own sons and daughters, or used them as tools of control over the mothers, because of their half elven blood! Someone had to say 'THIS HAPPENED' when talk of meeting over whether the elves should be eaten like animals or not, took place in our halls of power. It was the only time I ever saw Dominic make a truly moral decision. Someone had to say that yes, children were torn from the arms of their parents, that the tools of torment were real, that the breaker academies... that everything General Baraja saw that drove her MAD... were real! I couldn't let the truth die! It would be like another atrocity all over again! So I lived... I lived only for these days here in front of the world... and now I've said it all."

He forced his voice to calm down, and put his hands over his chest while his heartbeat slowed, "It is true, I was 'offered' a deal, a deal to tell the truth. A deal that promised me that I would live. But I rejected it completely. There IS NO deal. I refused it because there is no price you can put on this truth that wouldn't TAINT it... I am prepared to hang for how I lived. And if anyone in the empire doubts it..."

Raymond looked up at the Adjudicator, "I abjure all rights to a trial within the Sorcerous Kingdom or the Neutral Argland Council state. I plead guilty here and now in front of you. There are no redeeming circumstances that I have not spoken of, at least none that absolve me of my lifetime of sins! There are... friendly witnesses, perhaps, but none who I would put through that, and none who would add anything new to my testimony, or change that I am GUILTY! I ask for an immediate sentencing, and I reject any right to appeal it."

The adjudicator looked down at him, and though he was faceless beneath the hood intended to hide his identity, it was impossible not to notice how flustered he was, his gestures were hesitant as he raised up his gavel and held it aloft, unsure whether to strike it or not. When he spoke, his dismay was in his tone, "You are here as a witness, this isn't a trial for you..."

Raymond pointed to the armored Albedo sharply, with both hands as they were manacled close together, his eyes flashed with frustration and his voice was choked with weariness and anger as he exclaimed, "Make this my deal then, that I be sentenced now, no more of this! My deal is 'get it over with'. I've said all I need to, I've lived to do what I lived till today to do. I can pay for my crimes publicly and without regret, except that I have only one life to give to make up for all those I am responsible for ending!"

The adjudicator looked to his fellow judges, all masked as himself. Uncertainty engulfed them like a bad smell as they shifted uncomfortably. With no help for it, he looked to the prosecutors and the defender. "Do you have any objections, any of you?"

Albedo traded looks with Demiurge and Vanysa, mutual shaking of their heads gave answer enough.

"V-Very well." The Adjudicator said, and drew back his gavel, and he looked down at Cardinal Raymond Zarg Larrenson, "Then Raymond Zarg Larrenson, given the many crimes you have committed, the lives you've taken and your participation either active or passive within the Slane Theocracy during your time in the office of Cardinal, I accept your guilty plea without contention. While it is clear that you are remorseful for what you've done, and that you saved many lives, you were also right about one thing. A few months of decency does not make up for a lifetime of evil. I have no choice, but to sentence you to death. You will be hanged here, in a few hours, we will undertake a brief recess while a temporary gallows is constructed, and then it will be done. Your death will be quick, your final days, and your testimony today, merit that much mercy at least. Have you anything to say?"

Raymond's voice was weary, tired, "I've said all that I need to, but... if I could ask for one thing more... the woman who was here before, could I ask that she be found, I want to say goodbye to her. And, if it isn't too much trouble, my... 'handler' if you want to call her that. The Lady Solution, one of the maid demons of the Sorcerer King who protected my house in the last days of the war, I want to tell her thank you."

"I'll send a runner to that temple across the way, seems like she's with that. No promises however." The adjudicator said without optimism in his tone.

"I don't ask for any." Raymond answered in a deadpan voice as his body slumped forward as he relaxed.

"Who will be the next witness?" The adjudicator asked Demiurge as he set the gavel down.

"Adjudicator," Demiurge stood up and tugged lightly on the front of his suit, "we had planned on calling General Neia Baraja back to the stand, we had... some questions for her, but, it seems she's not here." He cast his eye to one side at the silent Albedo and the empty chair where Pandora's Actor normally sat. His early smug confidence in his victory, gone, and doubt hid behind a neutral face.

His confidence returned a bit, when a messenger entered, and handed a note to the adjudicator.

"It seems... that General Neia Baraja, formerly held at Kirakira prison, and more recently held in the Fortress of Last Home, has fled custody during a surprise attack by the Devor Empire's raiding parties. Her location is unknown to the authorities at this time, and if she is not returned, then we will have no choice but to find her guilty in absentia."


	43. Verdicts

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 42: Verdicts

_...Crescent Lake..._

Lovien entered with the brash confidence and charming smile that made him the center of attention in every room he'd entered since childhood. The guards behind him were laughing and joking, a 'prisoner' he did not seem to be. The throne room of the Queen was lined with courtiers, and both nobility and the merchant class, but as he looked out over the sea of wealth and opulence of the renewed Elven Province over which his new queen ruled, he noticed something else that he had not considered.

At Queen Zesshi's feet, down on their knees, surrounded by absolute power, were peasant women. Some, like Bertra, had enough to their names to be decently dressed, like a low to mid level merchant. But the array of women on their knees was mostly made up of those wearing poorer cut, the premade functional clothing not tailored to the wearer. They were the picture of vulnerability.

She heard the sound of Lovien's entry, the laugh of those near him as he told a joke, the way he shook hands with his friends, friends Zesshi knew were powerful figures of their own, some with interests in various fields. Her mind raced as she watched through sharp eyes. 'That one controls food imports to the capital... a word from Lovien, and a woman who wanted to sell fruits or vegetables might find her contracts in jeopardy.' She thought as she watched him being approached by another friendly face, 'That one is famous for his entertainment, his brother runs the performers guilds, while he sets all the venues... a word with either, and an actress of the stage might have no future in her work, even a street performer might lose their right to practice their arts in the streets.' A picture began to form as Zesshi looked down at the women who knelt in front of her. One of them... other than Bertra, she recognized as an actress, a talented one from a recent play put on 'in the Queen's honor'... by Lovien.

Her eyes went up from the nervous, anxious, frightened accusers, to the casual Lovien who made his way up the long red carpet as if he were just taking a stroll, as if he had nothing to worry about.

"Your Majesty." Lovien said in his captivating voice as he knelt before the throne of the half elven Queen.

"Do you know why you're here, Lovien?" She asked him patiently, folding her hands together in her lap.

"Majesty, I have been alerted to the ravings of a few whores in the marketplace, and of course I'm aware of the libelous graffiti on the walls of the buildings of our capital, this stain on my reputation is an affront beneath my contempt. While I do not question the wisdom of Your Highness inquiring, I must also say that to allow these sluts to demean my name in public in the throne room is... well it is uncomfortable."

"So was your hand groping my crotch after I told you 'NO' you ASSHOLE!" Bertra snarled at him.

Lovien wore a stunned bunny look for a moment, he could scarcely believe what she'd dared to say to him. He shot to his feet and pointed over at her, "You started this, didn't you, whore?! I should have known it was you!"

"Get DOWN Lovien, or I will 'put' you down myself. I did not tell you that you could rise. And control your tongue, if the daughter of His Majesty can be gagged for open court, don't believe you can't be." Queen Zesshi said sharply, and he slowly went back down to his knees, but he kept his glare to the right of him where the accusers waited.

That had the desired effect, the nobility and wealthy merchants paled a bit, it was well known that Lovien and house Alu were important to the wellbeing of the Elven Province, and had been central to reconstruction efforts after the war had ended, too, though Queen Zesshi's battle prowess was beyond doubt, she had not raised her voice to any of them before. The edge she put to it was new.

Zesshi pointed to the actress, a shapely elven woman by any measure, poised almost as a noble, her shoulders squared off as she stood, her ample bosom heaved as she took deep breaths, her hands folded in front of her, her eyes downcast, to stand before absolute power, was worse than stage fright.

"State your name, and tell your story." Zesshi said in a more gentle voice than she normally did.

"I... When I was starting out in this city, I performed on the street, and he was watching me as I did a soliloquy. I was doing a rendition of 'Savior and the Demon'. And... after I was done, and got my applause and some coins were cast my way, he approached me while I was picking up the stray ones. He knelt and helped me pick them up, he smiled at me. I thought he was handsome..."

Lovien looked rather smug as she said that, and she looked at him in disgust when she saw his expression, the twist to her face was obvious, and went from smug to shocked again, she started to shake as she went on. "He said he could get me in with the guild, if I put on a private performance at his manor for his guests, he said I could showcase my talent. He offered me two gold pieces. A street performer is lucky to make five silver for a full day's work. I was good so I usually made about eight, but two gold... how could I turn it down? I went, there was a party just as he said, I did my favorite piece. 'Savior on the Wall' and I performed 'Birth of Wrath'. In 'Birth of Wrath, I always call for an audience member or two to participate, they play one of the monsters, the other gets to play Neia, while I play Illyana. He... he volunteered to play as the savior. Since there were no women guests, this wasn't strange to me at the time." She bit her lip and froze.

"Go on." Zesshi ordered her calmly.

"This is madness! It was a play! I..." Lovien spoke up sharply.

"One more outburst Lovien, and I will have you gagged." Zesshi snarled sharply, and he shut up.

The actress went on, "When he held me as I lay 'dying' he groped my breast, I played it off, I was embarrassed, but... went with it, and ended the scene to applause. When the scene was over, I was asked to stay to meet the Performer's Guild head. Eventually everybody left, and Lovien approached to say that the one I was to meet had to go... he gave me a glass of wine, he got close to me, I backed away, until I hit a wall. Nothing happened at first, we just drank more, but on the fourth cup, he began to get aggressive, he began to make promises... that he could get me starring roles, that I could be famous, I kept pushing him off...… verbally at first, then...… he got physical. He tugged at my dress, pulling it down, he... forced his lips on mine so I couldn't speak, I tried to scratch, but he said..."

"Yes?" Zesshi prompted.

"Then he said that there were a lot of actresses in the city who would love the opportunity, that the waiting lists were long, competition fierce, that without him I couldn't hope for a chance... he said that with his fingers... pPushed inside. That was when I understood what he meant. , I stopped fighting him, and when he stripped me the rest of the way, I just tried to pretend I was somewhere else till he was done. I gathered my clothes, and he paid me for the night... the two gold, and... 'a bonus' a one gold bonus... that's what I was 'worth' to him."

She broke down then, weeping into her hands, she choked it back long enough to reach into a pocket and pull out the gold coin. "I could never bring myself to use it... I'm not a prostitute, I worked all my life to walk the stage and stir feelings of passion, despair, love, hope, and rage, to entertain and be a shining light... and he reduced me to a quick rut and an extra coin, and threatened to ruin my dreams..."

"A few days later, a message arrived from the performers guild saying that they had a high recommendation for my skills, and wanted me to come in, and then eventually, well, I got my first truly big role." She clenched the gold coin in her right hand.

"You're welcome." Lovien said with a charming smile on his face, and the actress screamed.

"Fuck you!" She howled and whirled, and hurled the coin violently at him, it hit him in the lip, splitting it open, he winced and grabbed the injured spot.

"You bitch! I got you your role, so what if you traded a few minutes for it! That makes you a whore, not a victim!" He snarled out, and Zesshi slammed her fist down on the throne.

"Silence!" Zesshi yelled.

"You'll get your chance to speak, Lovien, but for now... someone shove a rag in his mouth. And if that rag comes out before I tell you to speak, your tongue comes out with it!" Zesshi said with finality.

Thirg approached, removing a handkerchief from his pocket, he approached, pinched Lovien's nose almost hard enough to break it, and when he opened his mouth, in the cloth went, blocking any further outbursts.

Thirg lumbered back to his spot just behind and to the right of the throne, and Zesshi pointed to the next woman.

So it went, one after another, the women stood up, and the stories came out. For the cobbler's wife, it was a business license and rent on the shop space. For the fruit vendor it was purchasing rights from distributors. For another it was dock rights for a fisherman's wife. On and on, until it came to Bertra.

"I... think I was his last victim, I thought he was my friend, I trusted him..." She went on and relayed the story, the threat to her business, the threat to Soren, the promises of 'help' that were also thinly veiled threats of what would happen to her if she didn't give in and let him do what he wanted. All she skipped was the arrival of Zesshi to her home, and the pursuit where she'd used her skills from her time in the Holocaust Scripture. Until finally she said, "...and that brings us to now, Your Highness."

Lovien was shaking with rage, and Zesshi looked over to Thirg and gestured to the nobleman. "OK, take the gag out, let him speak in his own defense.

The mountain of an elven vampire approached, grabbed a corner of the cloth, and yanked it out of the flustered nobles mouth.

He stood up, cleared his throat several times, and struck a noble posture. "I am Lovien of House Alu, and I raped no one. Did I have sex with these women? Yes. I have a weakness for whores, I suppose. They gave up their bodies for certain... assistance, and did I not follow through? Didn't I give them what they wanted?" He pointed to the actress, "She got her spot in the guild and a starring role." He pointed to a cobbler, "She got their expenses deeply cut for her husband, though now that he knows his wife will be a whore for him, who knows, she might make him more money than the business did." He laughed at his ribald humor, but if anyone else felt like laughing, Zesshi's stone face told them it was a very bad idea, and none echoed him.

"That one," he pointed to Bertra, "whored herself for a friend of hers and for herself, in her own bed she asked for my help, how could I say no to that?" He asked with a frown.

"I admit I can be... pushy, after a little wine, but if they were really violated, why did for example, Bertra, invite me back into her home? Why did she not fight me, why did she let me carry her to her bed... why say a word to me? Why not fight back? Do these sound like the actions of a victim?" Lovien demanded coldly as he glared at the women arrayed beside him.

"Bertra, what do you say to that?" Zesshi asked with quiet calm.

Bertra stood again, "I know it is hard... for us to be here like this, I won't ask that the rest of you repeat me, only stand with me, if your reasons align with mine."

She then looked at Lovien like he was a bug beneath her shoe to be scraped off, "Because... the first time, I thought you were my friend, I blamed the wine, I blamed myself... I was interested in you, at first, but was... conflicted, for reasons of my own, so I didn't want to, not till I was sure... but you didn't care if I was sure or not, you wanted what you wanted. But still, it seemed so at odds with who you were, who I thought you were, that it was easy to feel like the wine was at fault, or that I might have let things go too far."

She swallowed hard and glared daggers at him, "So I let you come back, I just wanted to forget what happened, and then... the things you said... your 'help' wasn't an offer of help, it was a threat of ruin. How could I say no... you are a powerful noble, rich, influential... what am I? I am a peasant of no account, not even from this city, all I have was this little life I'd built for myself with my own two hands, and you descended from on high and threatened to destroy it if I didn't spread my legs for you."

She spat at him, her saliva sailed through the air and landed squarely on his cheek, "I scrubbed myself raw to erase your touch, didn't want anything to do with you... but you knew my friends, neighbors, you were part of my... project. Everyone likes you, admires you, respects you... I was afraid of saying anything because then I could lose everything. I made that 'offer' to you so I could feel like I had 'some' control over things, like I had a say... but you know I didn't. That unless I let you defile my body and my bed and my house and my little life that was all I have... you'd have taken it away from me so that there wasn't anything left at all, defiled or not! WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO YOU BASTARD?!" Bertra screamed out loud, "You tore the dress I bought with my first coins, you left me lying on the floor and left boasting of your ties to our Queen. Who would speak up at all, knowing that nobody would believe them, knowing you could destroy them from behind a desk, when all we want is for things to be normal again! To not remember being sullied by undesired touch and to forget being violated... to speak is to remember... do you remember what we talked about when we met?!"

Lovien frowned as he tried to recall the conversation.

"The words we wrote about all our experiences in the North, kept those memories alive, so that nobody could forget or deny what happened... we didn't want those things forgotten..." Bertra's voice broke and cracked, but she carried on as best she could, "But what you did to me, to all of us... we wanted to forget, that meant pretending it never happened, and pasting a smile on our faces when we saw you... but go to hell, it happened! It happened and you did it! And I'll be damned if you're going to walk away from that!" Bertra's accusing finger was leveled at him, and one by one the women around her began to stand, and imitated her, until over a dozen women stood with leveled fingers.

"He did it... he did it... he did it... he did it." They said, over and over again like some hellish nightmare chant, Lovien felt their icy, hateful stares on him, and it was as if the floor beneath his feet was opening up to swallow him, he looked around, desperate to find a friendly face, his eyes wild as he felt the room turn against him.

"I didn't do anything wrong! I did you favors! I..." Zesshi slammed her fist down on her throne's armrest, and silence fell.

"Verdict?" She asked her advisors.

"Guilty." Thirg and Tefl said without hesitation.

Zesshi however, was not done, having noted his final statement. "Well, if nothing you did was wrong, if that isn't rape, then... Lovien, you're on the verge of losing everything, but... there's a great big orc who did me a favor once, he prefers males, so I'm sure if you offer up your ass, he'll use his influence to let you keep your noble title and he'll even give you a few gold coins to help you start rebuilding the fortune you're going to lose, with his influence, I might be talked into keeping you out of a good seven hundred year prison sentence. Should I have you dropped off at his home for the night?"

Lovien's face paled.

"You'd be getting something out of it, wouldn't you? That makes it OK, doesn't it? He'll be saving your life even, aren't you grateful to him already, aren't you eager to go see him?" Zesshi asked in a casual sort of way, but Lovien's entire body was tense, terrified. "It might hurt a little bit, but I'm sure he'll use some oil to make it easier, you might even be good friends after that, right?" She asked pointedly. "Surely you'll tell the watch if he's too rough with you, after all, you don't mind what people know of the intimate details of your time bent over a table...… do you?"

Lovien began to stammer.

Zesshi's smile became cold, cruel, but her voice was dismissive and casual as she rapped her fingers on the armrest of her throne. "Of course you can refuse, I won't force you to do that, instead I'll strip you of your noble title, wealth, and you can spend the next few hundred years swinging a pickaxe into rock trying to make your cell a little larger. After all, don't you have a 'choice'?" She asked archly.

"Wait!" he shouted as Zesshi turned to face her guards, clearly about to order him taken away. "I'll... send me to the orc..."

"Why aren't you eager, after all, he's going to offer you so much more than you ever did to them, shouldn't you be overjoyed for the chance... or are you feeling... trapped? Hopeless, on the verge of losing everything, like your world is on the brink of collapse and the only hope you've got is to endure the unthinkable to save the life you've got for yourself?" Zesshi asked coldly.

He couldn't even nod.

But the glassy eyes were a sufficient answer. "Is... that what I did...?" He asked with a trembling, small voice.

"You'll have a lot of time to think about whether that is what you did or not, because the good news is, there is no such orc. The bad news is, you are hereby stripped of your nobility, your wealth is to be confiscated and distributed to all of your victims we can identify, any who are not present, if you name them and they accept it, will also get a share, also if you admit their names to me on paper, I will remove some years from your sentence. But your wealth is gone, your title is gone, what contracts you had, will be taken over by a representative of the crown. You will spend the next seven hundred years working in the mines of our southern mountains. You will be paid three coppers per day, less expenses, held by the crown until your release or your death. If you die there, then that will be heritable by any heirs you name. Do you have anything to say for yourself before you're taken away?" Zesshi asked evenly as he held his eyes down, and the nobles of the court looked on in absolute disbelief as one of their own was destroyed before their eyes.

Lovien looked up, and over at the women arrayed against him, and whispered, "I'm... I'm sorry."

"That's a start." Bertra uttered with a glare.

"Take him away." The Queen ordered, and a pair of guards approached, removing a set of chains kept handy for 'offensive' visitors, they chained him at the wrists and ankles, and led the former nobleman out of the royal court under the watchful eyes of the elites, the sounds broken only by the rattle of chains, which sounded like thunder in the minds of every noble in the hall.

When he was gone, Zesshi turned to the accusers, "You were brave to come forward. If it had only happened sooner, this might have been stopped early but... it is good that it was stopped at all, and I am proud of you, my people, for coming forward as you did. Lovien is still young, had he remained free, he could have done that to many, many others. By bringing him down, you have done a great service... and also pointed out one more terrible problem."

She looked away from the peasants and out over the sea of wealth, "Our peasant class is underrepresented, none of them can bring me their grievances with ease, even here, at trial before the crown, they knelt under the stares of those with the power to destroy them and take what little they have away. No wonder they said nothing, no wonder they did not fight, no wonder they tried to forget and pretend and just carry on with their lives... this can't stand as it is."

"To rectify this, I will appoint a small council of peasants to represent themselves before the throne, a common house, who can bring their grievances to me directly through their own representatives, and if someone... like Lovien, is preying on their fellows again, it won't take graffiti to bring it to my ears. And let this also be a warning to you, my nobles. I rule through you, and am grateful for your efforts..." Zesshi stood up, held her palm open in front of her, and went on, "but if you echo even faintly the character of my late father, I will crush you." Her open hand became a suddenly clenched fist. "If I hear even a 'whisper' of someone targeting these for retribution, or any other, then you can go and live with Lovien, there are easier ways to destroy yourselves, but not many."

"Now... if there is nothing more... then I would like you all to go... yes, to Bertra's Brighter Days Bookshop, that is where your writers meet, there is room enough, go there, I would address you all on ground more 'comfortable' to you." Zesshi said, "And once more, thank you for your services to the crown, it will not be forgotten." Zesshi stood, and gave a formal bow, to the shock of the nobles, and the peasant women stood, bowed in turn, and made their way out of the great hall of the Half Elven Queen.


	44. Backwards & Forwards

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 43: Backwards & Forwards

_...Menowa... _

Nua sat content in her cart on the way back to the temple after dropping off the last of 'her' farmers. She stretched out comfortably with her arms behind her head as Mu'Sula pushed it along. No sooner had she wrapped up a story about the black river, than he asked, "Say, weren't you talking about getting 'discounts' from those farms before? But you bought them all?"

Nua lazily held her hand up in the air and danced it around a buzzing insect. Putting one foot over the other, she glanced a little in his direction, "Why Mu'Sula, I'm shocked at you," she said with a pleasant little knowing smile on her face. "Don't you know that the best discount is a profit? Really, I hope you're more skilled as a merchant than I'm now thinking."

He burst out in the huffing laugh of a minotaur, "Lady Nua, you are just full of surprises, aren't you? I think I'm going to enjoy working for you."

"Yup, because those who can surprise you, can kill you. I've got the better part of a thousand years of life left in me, I don't plan on dying stupid because I got caught off guard. It's strange to me you know, how some people enjoy killing as much as they do, they get addicted to the blood, the death, the pain. That ever happened to you?" She asked seriously as she glanced back at him after briefly focusing on the sky.

"Not really, I guess you've concluded that my hands aren't virginal about the ending of other lives, but I never enjoyed it, not once. It was just something I had to do to stay alive." He said as his muscles strained against an uphill slope.

"Do you know why they called her the Demon of the West?" Nua asked.

"Just a guess from your stories, but because she was scary as a demon or because she killed as many as the worst of them?" He suggested tentatively.

"No, it's because she seemed to enjoy it. She said she didn't, to my face in fact, but the few occasions I stood in her presence I got the feeling that there was a hunger in her to spread death. Whether she knew it or not, something inside her wanted to end lives. She was less like a demon, and frankly more like an undead. After getting in between her and Raymond in the dead city, nothing scares me anymore, but do you know what the greatest irony in all that is?" She asked as a low laugh began to come up from within her breast.

"No..." Mu'Sula asked as he sighed with relief when they reached the top of the long hill.

"That I'm worse than she is." Nua chuckled, "Oh, I've barely ever killed anybody, but... I sold my soul to a demon, you might say. Near the end of the war, when Raymond's life was on the line, I bargained with a demon. All I asked was that she went to her master to ask for his life. Do you know what she asked me to do to save him?"

"Dare I ask?" Mu'Sula asked.

"I tortured a woman to the point of death. Skinned her alive, cut off pieces of her while she lived, I did everything Lady Solution told me to do. Oh she 'had' to die, she killed and ate my people... but the Lady Solution told me to make it hurt horribly. So I did... "I ruined my soul to save a man who participated in the enslaving of my race and supported the abuse of so many of us, for years in hells of sweat and lust." He was also one of the finest, most principled and noble people I've ever known... he bled for my kind when our corpses were just garbage and our lives trinkets, nearly died for us, threw everything away... for us and for me. Neia may have hurt people badly, killed many... but she wasn't a torturer, or not much of one anyway. Now here it is, and I've found him again, and... I don't know what to do."

"Why are you telling me all this?" Mu'Sula asked as the outskirts of the city came into view.

"I guess I had to tell someone, you're here, and who could you tell?" She asked rhetorically. "Besides, I'd say I'm about as close to a friend as you've got, and since all my friends from the temple training time have scattered to the winds, you're about as close to one as I've got."

"I suppose that's true." Mu'Sula admitted begrudgingly. "Well, we're almost there, should I just drop you at the temple?"

"Yes, it's been a long day, I think I'd like a drink and a rest. The profit from those farms will be enormous. From there I'll start investing in businesses around the capital, I'll sponsor hiring new merchants, but... of those from my congregation. From there the temple's wealth will be used to increase our outreach. I will speak for my god daily to an ever growing audience, and as my converts grow stronger and more numerous..." She began to grin, "Then I will have 'begun' to repay my debt to the god of our dark savior."

"Did you just... call her a 'dark savior'?" Mu'Sula asked as if he hadn't heard her properly.

"Sure, you've heard my stories, you've heard by now how they won't even have her in the court here unless she's hooded and gagged, even the adjudicator and his cohorts all wear hoods to keep their identities secret out of either fear of her or her father. And it wasn't that long ago she killed a witness in open court and delivered a promise of destruction to this very Kingdom. What would you call her?" Nua asked as if he were an idiot, and sat up in the cart.

"OK, I guess that fits. But do you really think she's evil?" Mu'Sula asked.

Nua laughed a pretty, silvery laugh and went to the front of the wagon. She leaned forward so that she was close to his ear, "Mu'Sula... in this twisted world, evil is the only good there is. The ones willing to kill everything in the way, the ones willing to warp their souls so much that they don't even recognize themselves anymore are the only ones who can ever save anyone. Everybody in the world is just stuck responding to those people who take the initiative and pursue their goals. Everyone else either learns how to play by those rules or they die. That is why His Majesty is the ideal king, because he applies evil as judiciously as good. His incredible genius makes him impossible to comprehend, his power too great to defeat, and it is he and he alone who can carry us all into a new era. I don't know what kind of God your Kiril is... but I can tell you this. If the Beastmen struck at my god's people, the Beastmen would cease to exist. We can't say that Kiril is doing the same for his own."

She snorted, "I'll pick the dark god of deeds over any more ideal dead and do nothing gods that are spread over the rest of this world. Worship who you want, but see where it gets you."

She brought a hand to her mouth and yawned as she started to stretch out. "How much longer."

"A few minutes, just relax, we're almost there, Lady Nua." He replied with the height of new respect in his voice.

"Good." She said and idly drew a knife from her belt and began to clean under her nails.

"Nice knife." He said when he happened to glance back.

"Thank you. The bones are those of my former master's wife, and the flecks of silver are the coins that her husband got from selling me on the auction block after he got me pregnant. The rest is adamantite, and it is heavily enchanted. I used it to cut apart the woman who treated one of my people like food. I'm absolute shit with a sword but... I'm not half bad with this. The maid demon who taught me to fight, along with the Cardinal on trial, seemed to know what I'd prefer. I think I actually take to it a little bit, because Raymond himself used a knife when he started killing to save my people." Nua didn't smile as she spoke of the blade Aalon had given her, there was little about it in her mind to smile about.

Mu'Sula didn't know quite what to say, he turned his eyes ahead as they entered the city and headed for the temple. "What was temple training like?" He asked idly, eager to change the subject and fill the last few minutes of travel time.

Nua felt the smile spread over her face.

"Oh that was wonderful. Hoburns is a lively place, huge population now. It has some remarkable sacred spaces: Gascon's Aqueduct, the first temple, the one Neia had built, the place where Remedios tortured her during the first attempt at purging her god's followers. They say it's the last place the dark savior sought peace before blood. But the training itself was rough. Martial arts are part of our beliefs; we train with swords, bows, knives and staves. The founding art focused on sword, bow, and grappling but... we've changed a bit since then." She giggled a bit, "mostly for the better."

"How so?" He asked with the martial interest of a minotaur.

"Well if you're better with a knife, or you've got the build for a hammer, focus on that, so there are now different combinations that people use, but the basic principle is 'always' the same. Be adaptable, be flexible. One distance weapon, one close weapon, and no weapon."

"You've only got a close weapon though..." Mu'Sula began as he looked over his shoulder, only to see the shit eating grin on Nua's face as she reached into the cloak and drew out a few darts.

"I use these. I can carry more of them than I can arrows, they're easily concealed, and require nothing more than a wipedown to take care of." She winked. "Anyway, we would train for two hours every morning, toughening our bodies and training with our weapons. We would then attend classes where we would learn public speaking, reading and writing, mathematics, and simple survival skills. Advanced students who could already do some of that, took second year courses in their first year. There we learned simple magic if we had an aptitude, or more advanced combat. We learned rhetoric and both studied and debated the words of the great faithful."

A bitter look came over her face, "The biggest debate topic of the year was over who was right, General Enri or General Baraja, but we had to be able to argue both sides. In our more advanced classes, we were taught some of the sacred learnings of First World that our god bestowed on us to make us better thinkers, and finally we specialized. Some would go on to martial paths, wanting to become generals one day. Others focused on magic to the exclusion of the rest. I wanted to travel, so I focused on international studies to learn the cultures of the places I would see. I can read your nation's language, and write it almost as well. I know your holy days and what is expected of me as a dinner guest. It's why I knew to speak to you with a blunt tongue when it came time to 'settle' things. I learned it all there."

A laugh started to creep into her voice, "It wasn't all work and fighting though. We got to drink, we had days off, we could earn money and spend it how we liked. It was strange to actually celebrate just for the sake of doing so, no holy day or reason needed. I had great friends, though it took awhile for that to happen. But they were good years, and I wouldn't trade them for anything."

Her words were cut off when she noticed the group of minotaur soldiers in front of her temple. "Thanks for the ride, "Mu'Sula, but I've got a bad feeling about this, come by and see me later for your coins..." She jumped out of the cart and ran as fast as she could, leaving him stunned behind her as she charged full tilt, leaning into the wind, to get to the front door of the half built temple.

"I'm Nua Calen Aiwenor, priestess of this temple, is something wrong?" She asked as she came to a dead stop in front of a large minotaur armed with a double headed ax on his back that was almost half the size of his torso.

He looked down at her, "No, nothing, it's just that there's a request from a prisoner to see you. The human, Raymond, is going to be hanged in the pavilion in a few hours, he wanted to say goodbye to you and..."

Nua's face went pale, she turned and sprinted over to the entrance. Her heart pounded in her breast, her eyes were blurry with tears as she tucked her chin into her chest. 'Raymond... no... no... not again, not again! Not after everything! I finally found you...' She didn't take long to get there, but was moving so quickly she couldn't stop or turn on a coin, so she didn't. She jumped at the large stone arch, [Springstep] she said, and when she hit the stone, she twisted her body and pushed off toward the interior, her martially enhanced body sailing overhead.

Down below, a gallows was nearly complete. A rope was in place, hanging just behind where he stood, and a minotaur was bearing a few heavy stones over to put on the foundation to ensure it wouldn't fall forward when he dropped.

"Raymond!" She screamed as she sailed over the mass of minotaurs below her, twisting in the air so that she'd hit the ground with her heels, as those who heard the heart rending scream overhead turned to watch the elf girl as she seemed to glide through the air like a predatory hawk, directly towards her target.

_...Over the Devor Border on the Highway of Tears..._

Neia was still holding her hands up in surrender when the portal opened, and Pandora's Actor stepped through.

That got her to lower her hands and dismount her skeletal horse. She immediately reached out, and they clasped forearms and shook firmly. "Pandora's Actor, good to see you." She said with a grin so large that her pearly white teeth made the blood coating her face stand out all the more.

"And also you mein guten frau." He said, and the minotaurs looked somewhere between tense, awed, and, in the case of Mu'Ulm, relaxed.

"It's alright." Neia said as she dismissed the summoned mount after taking Mu'Trieu down from the front of it.

"Listen," Neia said as she addressed Pandora's Actor again, "This is Mu'Trieu, I'm taking her in, her mother is dead, she has no other family, and what happens to children here who lose both, is death eventually one way or the other. Can you... take her to my wife? I hope this doesn't violate the agreement for the 'diplomatic' use of the gate spell. If it does, I suppose she can just go with me until a carriage can be brought, but I'd hate for her to make a long journey like that with just an unknown handler..."

Mu'Trieu immediately clung to Neia's leg. "NO! I don't wanna go!"

Pandora's Actor crouched down in front of her.

Neia stroked the little snout of the minotaur girl and smiled down at her, "That's sweet, and I wish you could stay but... I have to go to a bad place now and I don't want you to have to go there with me. This nice man is like a brother, he's helping protect me, and he'll protect you too until you can get to my wife."

Pandora's Actor reached out to touch the little girl's hand, she stamped her hooves at his gentle tug, "I want to stay with the blood lady!"

Neia snorted back a laugh at the nickname she'd been given, and crouched down to her when she was dislodged. "Listen, you need to be brave, brave like your mother." She reached out and cupped the cheeks of the little minotaur girl, her eyes blue as the azure sky, she looked gently on the lost one whom she'd found. "I have to go somewhere that isn't for children... and I may not be coming back, but... you won't be alone, you'll be safe. You'll eat good food, sleep in a warm bed, my wife will look after you, and she'll teach you everything even if I can't. OK?"

"NO!" The little minotaur girl shouted and tried to pull away from Pandora's Actor.

"How about this... I promise that if everything works out, and I get home, I'll give you two stories per night, every night... for a month." Neia suggested as she impulsively scratched lightly under the girl's chin, the way she'd seen other minotaurs do. Mu'Treiu lifted her head slightly and clearly enjoyed the sensation.

Finally she said, "Three!"

"Fine... Three. It's a deal, I promise, and Neia Baraja will go to any lengths to keep her promises." She said, and standing up, she began to pat the top of little Mu'Treiu's head.

"So, can you do it?" Neia asked hopefully.

The little girl toddled hesitantly over to the faceless Pandora's Actor, who nodded slowly. "Yes, I just have to have a good reason. Returning your arms will be sufficient; give me your sword, bow, arrows, and any knives you carry."

Neia did as he instructed, removing it all and handing it over to him, he quickly tossed it all into his pocket dimension, and she reached up to undo the clasp for her cloak to remove her armor.

"Wait, no. Keep your clothing mein gut Neia, I did not bring prison wear for you today. So unless you wish to go to court naked..." Pandora's actor suggested pointedly.

"I'm wearing blood underneath still, does that count? I swear I need a bath." Neia groused mildly.

"Time enough after. I will return her, then I will come back for you. I expect them to declare that you've run away and fled custody like a coward. They will no doubt try to find you guilty by default and save themselves the trouble of thinking." He was clearly displeased by what he said, and Neia felt no need to argue the point.

"Fine," she shrugged, "I'll just have to prove that I wasn't doing that... I think friendly witnesses definitely count as diplomatic use, in this case." Neia smiled like she knew her next move was checkmate, and turned to the still silent minotaurs.

"Mu'Bin... all of you... I have a 'favor' to ask, if you don't mind?" Neia said, as Pandora's Actor picked up Mu'Treiu, and walked through the gate that appeared behind him.


	45. Justice Served

_...Pavilion..._

"I won't let you!" Nua screamed like a banshee as she descended from above, hit the ground, rolled forward, and rose to her feet in front of the chained Raymond who waited passively for the gallows to be completed. Her knife was drawn and held in both hands, all her training was gone from mind, everything was forgotten, and she was herself as she had been before her freedom, frightened, but also after... resolved. Her knife shook in her hands as she held it out, pointing at one after another. "You can't!"

A gate opened, and from it emerged a buxom, beautiful blonde with a winsome smile on her face. "So... this is it, isn't it?" She said with her hands on her hips, "Heard you asked for me?" She studiously ignored the knife wielding elf, and approached him with sultry steps. "Wanted a quick roll with the prettiest killer you ever met?" She gave him a monstrous smile, "I'm not usually one for last requests but..."

"Lady Solution!" Nua screamed as people looked on, uncertain of just what to do, though guards began to inch closer, the beats of their hooves came down lightly, but echoed still over the stone as they began to close in. "Help me! They're going to kill him!"

Raymond's chains rattled as he held up his hand and put it on Nua's shoulder. "Nua... we both knew it would probably come to this. His Majesty promised more than I ever dreamed and more than I deserved, I'm the last living Cardinal, the others are gone, as long as I'm around, there will be elves and humans alike who can't really feel that the war has ended, that life can ever be normal, that justice was truly done. I've done too much in my life, to deny them justice now."

"I don't care!" Nua said without looking at him, as she came back to her senses, the armored elf took on a more dangerous stance and flipped her knife over and drew her hand back, her long blond hair blowing lazily behind her, a snarl began to form on her lips.

"Well, I really did a number on you, didn't I, little elf." Solution said, looking smugly self satisfied as she saw the way Nua readied herself.

"Are you going to help me or NOT?" She demanded of Solution, without breaking eye contact with the nearest guards.

"Nope." She said as she held her hands behind her head and looked out over the mixed array of nearly frozen faces. "Why would I do that?"

"Because I bargained for his life! He can't die now!" Nua exclaimed with anguished frustration as her skin began to tingle.

"One step closer..." She said to the guards who drew their heavy axes and came closer to her, being now only barely out of striking distance, "and though I have no quarrel with you, I will put you down." Nua said coldly.

"I suppose you did do that..." Solution replied and stroked her chin, thoughtfully.

"Nua... I'm sorry... I know you bargained with the Sorcerer King but... this isn't his Kingdom, he has no authority here, and this court was acting in accordance with their agreements, and has rendered their sentence." Raymond said quietly. "Please... just let me see you once more before the end, let me see your face, the way I want to remember it in whatever after life lies beyond this one."

"I'm not ready for you to go yet... I want you to live... You saved my life, so many lives, and this... this is how it ends..." She shook her head bitterly and he moved to stand in front of her, he put his hands up and held her face.

"I've lived long enough, I've done enough, right and wrong, for an elven lifetime, let alone a human one. But most important of all, I got to see the rarest jewel in the world, the birth of a free soul, got to see you go from frightened and chained, to free and happy, got to see you stronger than you ever thought you could be... that's enough. It's time to let go, I'm the last thread of your past, the last piece tying you a place you never should have been. And it's time to cut that thread for good. Thank you... for coming for me, for thinking of me, for trusting me. For everything." He said, and leaning forward, he tilted her head and kissed her forehead.

"Raymond... you dummy... you big dummy..." She said as she slowly collapsed to her knees. He held her shoulders and smiled weakly down at her.

"Maybe so, if I'd known I'd have gotten to know someone like you, I'd have burned the Theocracy myself, before I let you enter that dark and twisted city." He sniffled once, and stepped back from her. "I'm ready now." He said, and looked to Solution.

"Thank you, for everything, you were a great help, I couldn't have done it without you. I leave my body to Nua for final disposition, oh, and I have a letter for Queen Zesshi in my pocket, have it delivered to her, would you, one last favor to your favorite demon in human skin?" He asked it as casually as if he were about to go out for a meal, and she nodded.

"You were fun, and you were good at what you did. Nice knowing you." Solution said with a casual wave, "I'll do what you ask, and good luck over there." She winked at him as he went to the chair that had been brought out.

Nua whirled around, she looked with desperate eyes, "Please... isn't there anything...?" She looked up and over at the adjudicator.

The behemoth of a minotaur behind the mask hesitated... "No, after all that he's said, there can be no other end. He has condemned himself, but... as one small favor to his courage, you will bear no punishment for your attempt at violence."

Nua had no heart for gratitude in that moment, she looked up at the last Cardinal as he stood up on the chair. The knife fell from her hands and clattered onto the stone, and she fell to all fours, choked sobs pouring out.

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to make you cry... I wish you all the happiness in the world, for you, and everyone like you." Raymond said as the noose went over his neck.

Her eyes tilted up. She whimpered and then said... "Thank you... for everything... I'll pick a nice spot, and visit whenever I can."

"I know." He said, smiled one more time, swept his dark hair back with his hands and looked ahead so he could be clearly seen by those magic casters sending his final moments to all corners of the empire.

"Last words?" The executioner asked.

Nua managed to get up to her knees and look to his face, "Raymond... I'll see you again... someday, somehow, no matter what it takes, I swear it."

"I believe you." He replied with a gentle look on his face that had, in the idealistic days of his youth, made him a comfort to those whose worship services he led.

"As to last words, just one last request, or maybe an expression of hope for those elves and others my nation wronged. I am the last guilty ruler, please... let your hatred for my people, die with me if you can. And for my surviving people, take my passing as a chance to start over. Let the past die with me, so that your children don't die tomorrow."

He turned to look at the minotaur beside him, and nodded, then held his face to the magic casters so that his death could not possibly be missed, and a moment later, the chair was kicked by a minotaur hoof, it shattered loudly, and Raymond fell, hard.

The rope snapped taut as he fell toward the stone floor of the pavilion, and his neck snapped with it. He hung there, twitching and swaying slowly before a silent world, the only sound being the rocking and creaking of the gallows... and the sobbing of a heartbroken Nua as she slowly got to her feet.

She wiped her face in her sleeve and went to stand directly in front of the body. His eyes were closed, and with a shaking, trembling hand, she reached out and put her hand to his leg, and grabbed it gently to stop the swaying of his body.

She felt the warmth lingering beneath the cloth, and for a moment it seemed to her that they were alone. The chains rattled slightly, and she stuck her hand out demandingly to one side, the question did not need to be asked, the guard handed her the key, and she undid the bonds that held him fast, letting the set fall in a heap at his feet on the ground below, and dropped the key contemptuously with them. When that was done, she took up her knife and threw it hard into the rope that was secured to the wooden beam. It snapped with an audible crack, and she easily caught the limp body and held him over her shoulder. She yanked the knife out and put it away, and with teary eyes she looked around, remembering that she was not alone, but had the eyes of the world she knew, focused on the macabre scene.

"A good man died today, that's all that happened. And that... that was justice? Maybe it was... maybe it wasn't, I don't know. But I do know this. That whether it was, or whether we just can't say... it's because a man like that could die here, this way, this day, that we must change this wretched, wretched world." She spat hatefully at the stone, and carried his body up the long stretch of stone steps, past countless watching eyes, and out into the street.

When she was gone, the adjudicator huffed uncomfortably. "We'll recess for the day, pick up tomorrow..." He swallowed hard, and shifted uncomfortably in his seat before he stood up, and with the rest of the crowd, who gradually rose silently from their seats, he and they all began to filter out, with none much in the mood to speak to anyone.

She carried his body under the wide stone arch, her dagger tapping at her side as she carried his corpse, as she did so, his limp arm lightly tapped against her back, in the same rhythm as the dagger she drew strange looks from those who hadn't been privy to the events within the pavilion, but until Solution fell into step beside her, she noticed nothing and no one but the sensation of fading warmth and slowly paling skin from Raymond's body.

Nua might not even have noticed Solution... except it was impossible to ignore the deadly maid demon and her whimsical, light steps as if she were much amused.

"What do you want?" Nua asked, trying very hard to ignore what could not be ignored.

"Not much, he was kind of a friend of mine after all, he didn't have many of those, so... I figured I'd at least see him disposed of." Solution tapped her cheek as she melodramatically looked up thoughtfully.

"That's not all of why you're here, I know what you are too well, to believe it's just that." Nua said with resignation as she went around the back of the temple to a space of empty, grass covered ground. "Tell me the whole truth, whatever else you are, a liar isn't one of those things, you enjoy the truth too much." Nua fumed as she lay the body gently on the ground.

As she knelt there, and hovered over his body, laying his hands over his torso, one over the other, she let her own hand linger there and just looked at his peaceful face.

"Well, you're right, though I can't help but say again... we really did do a number on you, didn't we, little elf?" Solution looked down the armed and armored priestess, who had eyes only for the ghost white face of the late Cardinal.

"Get to the point." Nua groused, "I have things to do."

"Oh, it's nothing big, I'd just like to point something out, something that might... one day, prove useful to you." Solution teased with her tongue slightly out.

That had Nua's interest, and she glanced sideways over at the maid demon that had warped her gentle soul... or revealed how warped it was, a question that now lingered in the back of her mind.

"His Majesty rewards good service, that much you know. But the greater the service, the greater the reward. If... for example, someone were to... hand a kingdom to his empire, he 'might' be inclined to offer a tremendous reward. Perhaps even return the dead, though given who 'he' was, I doubt he'd let Raymond return as a human, or with his own name... but, maybe... just maybe, with a kingdom to offer? He might give you an otherwise impossible reward." Solution was playing down the 'potential' for all it was worth.

"Of course, there are no guarantees, and... kingdoms aren't to be had just for the asking now, are they? You'd have to do quite a bit, wouldn't you? Who knows who you'd have to kill, or how many? You might even have to wage a war, start a rebellion, it's anyone's guess, and you could be killed at any time along the way, and then it'd all be for nothing wouldn't it? No... it's better to not even try, as an Explorer class, the best thing for you to do is just go from country to country, starting temples and laying the groundwork for those who will follow after you. You'll be much safer that way, and can live a long, long time while he rots here alone." Solution tittered a bit as she spoke, and went to stand behind the kneeling Nua.

Solution leaned over, behind her, and sank down so that her beautiful face was inches from the elf priestess's ear and whispered, "Don't you also think it's better this way? To let a demon in human skin, a killer to the core, lie alone in the ground, after all, he's the one who bought you at auction, what else does he deserve, he had a debt to you and all your kind because of how he lived, it's repaid now, since he's dead. Aren't dead humans what you wanted? That's why you came here, far from any humans, except for the two to be hanged, or am I wrong?"

Nua didn't answer, there was no need, she simply listened onward with growing interest and understanding, though she kept her face neutral as stone.

"Of course... if you 'did' want some tremendous reward for extraordinary service... well, on the far side of the center of the continent, there happen to be some... much degraded kingdoms. One of which is a kingdom of elves, the Mixtlan Empire uses them as a larder, like the Devor empire uses the minotaurs. I suppose if somebody came along with sufficient knowledge, skill, and will, they might be able seize control of a weakened place, maybe take power and perform some great service or offer it as a great prize for the Sorcerer King. But that's just too far, isn't it? Good chance of dying along the way, and dying in the attempt, and who knows what else? No, forget I said anything. You don't like to take lives, and this world... belongs to the merciful." Solution cackled with laughter as she couldn't keep her face straight anymore, holding her stomach as she let it all out.

Nua however, had heard every word, missed nothing, caught every double meaning and implication, especially the final words of the maid demon.

Raymond's body was now much colder. "Is it really possible to change somebody's entire race? I've heard of resurrection, but human to say... elf, or orc, or demon?" Nua asked quietly. "This isn't a half truth, meant to goad me into futile actions, is it?"

Solution had her monster grin on when she went to the other side of the body and crouched down opposite Nua. "No, it can be done, it was done for one very faithful servant, she got a new body, and a new life."

"I see, then... can I borrow some things from you?" Nua asked thoughtfully.

"Of course, we're 'friends' aren't we?" Solution asked with a sadistic smile on her face.

"I'd like something to preserve his body, and a stone sarcophagus to keep it in, right here behind my temple. After I'm all done with all my work in this place, when I've built the temple, established our income sources, and completed all the preparations for a permanent occupant to come and minister to the needs of our minotaur followers, I'll be moving on." Nua's voice grew more and more resolute as she spoke, and her eyes went up to meet those of her deadly teacher.

"Oh? Do you know which direction you'll go from here, since you're thinking so far ahead and all?" Solution asked with a crooked smile.

Nua met it with a determined face, eyes unblinking, her warm and living hand clenched on that of Raymond's cold, dead skin. "Yes, I'll go east, far, far east, where I think I can do a great deal of 'good'."

Solution rubbed her hands together as if anticipating a feast. "Well, if you happen to want a hand, perhaps Lord Ainz might permit me to 'serve' you, as I 'served' him. Would you like that?" The maid demon's loose, monstrous smile was broader than Nua had ever seen it.

"Since you ask, well, that might be a great help, your brand of 'good' might just be what they need to help correct their sinfulness." Nua responded.

"Are you sure, don't you hate killing entirely, don't you abhor every kind of violence?" Solution asked with a false gentleness as she tore at the chains of conscience that held back the desire she knew lay within the elven woman.

"I'll do what he did." Nua said as she moved her hand to the space of flesh that covered Raymond's unbeating heart. "I'll learn to like it. Now, if you could get me those few things, I do have things to do here first, to spread His Majesty's justice." Nua said with an edge to her voice that did not show any weakness, as she stood resolute and straight, ready to get back to work.


	46. Adorasnoot

_...E-Rantel…_

Skana had barely left her bed in days except under CZ's persistent demands, and then only to walk. "I've done all I can, the merchants have gone, popular support is everywhere… and if that merchant who started publishing slave narratives ever shows up at the Papal Estate, I swear I'll kiss them." She leaned on the balcony rail where she was watching the trial unfold and speaking passively, wearily, and not as herself at all. When Raymond's body fell and his neck snapped, her expression didn't change.

Nor did it change as the elf girl carried him away, nor as the pavilion emptied, her eye was glassed and hollow as she watched, she felt a kick within her belly. She touched the space where her child was growing, "It's OK, it isn't over yet… he was nothing little one, mother is just very tired."

CZ approached from behind her and put hands on Skana's shoulders. "There, I've stood up and walked around for a bit, really shouldn't have watched that just now though…" Skana reached up and touched her forehead as her breathing picked up the pace, all she could do is stare at the rope with the noose still intact lying alone on the stone floor.

"Come." CZ uttered and her tender but firm touch pulled Skana away from the rail.

Skana didn't even have it in her to nod, "Do you think she's OK? I don't believe for a moment she ran off but… you know how she is. She's even more bull headed than I am."

"Yes. She is strong." CZ responded and guided Skana to a chair to sit down.

The chair and the table at which it sat were of the finest most ornately carved mahogany, polished to a shine, and smooth as glass. Ornate patterns decorated the thick round sides, a close look at the intricate details revealed a story carved within, told purely in scenes, of a daring action that brought down a champion and won a treasure.

Skana barely noticed it, CZ reached for the silver carafe in the center of the table and poured out the contents into a silver goblet. "Milk?" Skana asked quizzically as she stared at the rich white flow and listened to the sound of the mild splash within.

"Good. For both." She said succinctly.

"Fine. Don't care for the stuff but this one comes first." Skana said and touched her ample belly, trailing the tips of her fingers over the round surface beneath the rich maroon cloth that made up the shirt she wore.

She took up the goblet and drank it deeply under CZ's watchful eye. She smacked her lips as she finished and slapped the goblet down. "Not usually my thing but I was thirstier than I thought." Skana smiled slightly and CZ touched the space just above her own lip.

"Oh, right." Skana wiped the milk mustache away on her sleeve, "Thanks." She muttered, her mouth opened to say more, but she froze when the gate opened. Worry made her skin form goosebumps and her hairs stand on in. She sucked in a deep breath of anticipation. 'Neia… please be Neia…' She had time to hope even as she dismissed the very idea.

Skana turned around, following Skana's expression and watched the gate stabilize for the moment it took before someone came through.

"Guten tag mein frualines!" Pandora's Actor said with a deep flourish of abow, flinging one hand in front of his waist as the gate vanished behind him. Typically he would have flung his other arm out parallel with his shoulder, but… this time he did not, as his hand was securely grasped by a very small unexpected sight.

Mu'Trieu looked around, her jaw dropped at the sight of the room in which she found herself, the colors, the richness, she crouched and touched the deep red carpet. "It's colored like the blood lady but… softer." She said as she stroked it with her little dark brown fingers.

"Pandora… ah, who is this?" Skana looked at the little minotaur girl patting the carpet. Her face was anxious, her hand went up to it, and fingers bent so that they curled to touch her lower lips, her eye was open far as they could be as she stared at the distressingly sudden appearance and unanswered mystery. "Shouldn't you be with Neia… oh god, has something happened…?!" Skana felt her breath increase rapidly until CZ began to rub her back mildly.

She forced herself to put her hand down on the table, and calmed herself by force of will, "No, forgive me, I've… I've been stressed out a lot lately with everything, please though, tell me what's happening?"

Pandora's Actor straightened up and let the brief and panicked tirade pass. "Your wife is fine mein guten frau, she has been very busy." He looked down at the minotaur child, "Come with me, Mu'Treiu." He whispered gently and led the little girl over to the table, he sat down and put her into his lap.

She stared with wide eyed awe down at the table, making faces into it to watch her reflection and running her hands over the, to her, impossibly smooth surface.

As the little girl entertained herself with the novelty, Pandora's Actor went over the story as he knew it, and Skana gritted her teeth with barely suppressed rage, rage she only suppressed because she was acutely aware of the little girl sitting on the lap of Pandora's Actor that was oblivious to everything but… seemingly how to be adorable.

"Those unmitigated bastards, those damn fools. You can't take a person like that and make them into a slave warrior, just how did they think that was going to work out? Well, I call dibs on Mu'Fidelius's head." Skana said with blunt mercilessness rolling off her tongue, her fingers clenched tight enough that her knuckles turned white.

"I believe that honor likely falls to mein vater." Pandora's Actor remarked glibly. "But that was not the last of it."

As he went on with the story, he rested a hand on Mu'Treiu's head, and she looked up from her distraction, craning her long head up to look at Pandora's Actor when she recognized she was suddenly relevant.

"So now, she has adopted this one, with her mother dead and her fate to be thrown to a village buffet or a fortress one for Devor raiders, she couldn't let that go. She has asked that you accept her until, and if, she can come home." Pandora's Actor finally finished and let out a sharp exhale.

Skana looked down at the little girl. "So, I guess that would make you the 'Mu'Treiu' of the story, wouldn't it?" Skana said and slid a hand over the table to touch that of the little one that was barely more than a toddler.

"What did my wife tell you?" Skana asked.

"The blood lady?" Mu'Treiu asked innocently. Skana could only snort a laugh at her question and could not refrain from a big smile at the childish innocence.

"Yes, the blood lady. What did she say?" Skana asked and closed her mouth but kept the smile.

"I could kill them all." The little girl could not smile as humans did, but the slightly more open lips and the way her mouth drew back ever so slightly, suggested in tandem with her sing-song voice that she liked the idea.

"Well, you're a chip off the old block, aren't you? Yes, stay with me, and I'll teach you everything you need to know, and when she comes back, she will too. And when you're all grown up, big and strong, if my wife was right, and she rarely isn't, then yes, you can go back the way you came, and make them all pay. So… do you want to stay with me and my wife, the blood lady?"

Mu'Treiu chewed on her lower lip for a moment, "Can you tell stories?" She asked as she fidgeted with her fingertips.

"Yes, very good ones." Skana said as she tilted her head up proudly, "I'll have you know aside from being the best dancer in my village growing up," she put her hand proudly to her chest, "I was also one of the best storytellers too!"

Mu'Treiu's eyes shone like stars, "OK, but Blood Lady promised me more than one every day!" She insisted fervently, prompting a mild chuckle from the Blood Lady's wife.

"It'll be fine, I've never run out of stories, not once in my whole life." Skana said with an exaggerated look of confidence. "What else is there to do in a village when you've brought in the harvest and…" She trailed off.

Pandora's Actor and CZ were staring at her.

"Other than 'that' I mean!" She laughed deeply and blushed a little when she saw the little minotaur girl looking at her cockeyed.

"What?" Mu'Treiu asked.

Her heart all but burst with warmth, it felt good to laugh, her nerves began to settle, and the wide eyed innocent little girl certainly didn't hurt. "Nothing, Mu'Treiu, I'll explain it to you when you're older." Skana managed to gasp out between her guffaws.

"I suppose we should get her settled in over at the estate, and then, well what else is there, there can't be much left, can there?" Skana asked anxiously, "How much…" She looked at the innocent eyes of Mu'Treiu, and stopped her question, she felt her emotions running wild within, and turned to CZ, "Could you take Mu'Treiu and help her get a bath, we'll get her settled into her own room at home soon, but I'm sure she's had a difficult few days, a bath would do her good."

Mu'Treiu looked down the length of her snout at the one eyed girl dressed as a maid and though she was tense, reluctantly allowed herself to be picked up and carried into another room. The sound of a squealing, excited minotaur girl soon echoed from beyond the closed door, along with clapping hands and a clamoring of muffled questions, and Skana was alone with Pandora's Actor.

"How much more can they do to her… tell me the truth, does my wife have any chance at all?" Skana asked anxiously. "Believe me, I can take it, we both can." She said urgently, leaning forward slightly over the table.

Pandora's Actor leaned forward in turn and gave a slow, grave nod of his head. "Yes, we seem to have pre-empted Demiurge's plans, from what Albedo briefed me on, what happens next will determine her fate once and for all, but the chance to tilt the scales decisively against her, has passed away. All that remains is to hear from our investigators, and then, I will return her to court… with best evidence in tow. What she did… Das vas ein guten day."

"I hope so." Skana said, letting a breath go that she hadn't realized she'd been holding in, "Seeing like that was hard. I'll never forgive Enri or Gagaran for their part in this." Her one green eye turned hard, but didn't meet the eyes of the treasury guardian, instead she looked down at her reflection in the table, "You know, a long time ago, god, it feels like a lifetime, I wanted Neia to die screaming, because then I'd know she was feeling the same fear I felt. Now here I am, and when she screams in pain, I die inside, and all I feel is fear for her. I want to do for her now, what I could not do for her then, and drag her away from danger, or if I can't, then draw my sword and face it with her, like the day we put down that bitch Remedios."

"Things are more complicated now, ja?" Pandora's Actor said sympathetically as he reached out and took her hand.

"Yes, no wonder nations resort to war, it's so simple, kill enough of one side and you get your way, this is complicated, uncertain, and even if you're right, you can lose." Skana's face became more than a little bitter, her one eyelid partially shut as she stared down at the burnished table surface.

"But she still stands, and I think she will not fall. Have faith, you will hold her again, she will hold the young you bear for you both, and you will live long, and happy lives. Mein vater has asked much, but of whom much is asked, much is also given, and after this, I believe he will give you what you want most." Pandora's Actor said with resolute confidence.

"What we want most…" Skana uttered barely above a whisper.

"Ja, peace, he will find some way, somehow, so that you need never venture into the mouth of hell again. This is the end of your journey, and the start of the adventure of life, the life you earned. Our divine lord will not abandon you." Skana managed to start to smile again, slowly, as she clasped his hand on the table.

"Thank you, I am grateful." Skana replied gently, and turned away when a knock came at the door.

"Who is it?" Skana asked after quickly clearing her throat to rid herself of any hint of undesired emotion.

"Lakyus." The voice beyond didn't even need to say the name.

"It's open, come in." Skana said pleasantly, and then a quick click of the handle, and the door was open, in strode Lakyus, who wasted not a moment, pushing the door sharply and walking into the room without needing to ensure it closed behind her. It closed with a click as she strode to the table.

She was brought up short when she saw Pandora's Actor, her eyes filled with sudden fear, and her hairs stood on end. She jabbed her finger down towards Skana, "I promise she doesn't know anything! 'I' told Neia to run for it, Skana here can tell you nothing. I'll swear to it on anything you like, there's no need to interrogate her…"

"You have good friends." Pandora's Actor said in a slow voice of deep approval.

"I do. I really do." Skana practically glowed as she recognized what Lakyus had thought.

"No, it's nothing like that Lakyus," Skana said and reached up to take her by the arm, then she drew the blonde warrior over to a chair and gestured to it. "Please sit."

It was then that Lakyus heard the loud splashing and sing song voice of a little girl in the bathroom.

"I know where Neia is, and she did not run, not that way. She found herself embroiled in the plots of a duplicitous other, and did what she always does when that happens." Pandora's Actor could barely keep back his amusement as he spoke.

"Killed everyone responsible or nearly, then lit a nice big fire so everybody for miles and miles around would know what she'd done?" Lakyus asked bluntly. She then rubbed her temple as she made herself comfortable at the table. "I swear, now that I say that out loud like it's a damn routine… I need some new friends, quiet ones, maybe ones who sew." She sighed with relief as much as with exasperation as she got out her sarcastic quip.

"Ah, something like that, yes." Pandora's Actor said, briefly flustered by the deadpan answer of the veteran adventurer. "But why are you here?"

"Truth? I heard Neia ran so I came to get 'her' out." She looked over to Skana briefly, then went on, "Frankly I should have known better, but it's everywhere, all over the city, the temples, the pope on trial is one thing, the Pope running from trial is another. Kind of embarrassed that I thought it was even possible for that one to run… but I was still upset over… well it doesn't matter right now. But can someone tell me about the splashing?" Lakyus asked. "You 'clearly' haven't had your kid yet." She said as she looked down at the ample belly on the wife of the Pope, and managed a very relieved laugh to answer Skana's mild blush.

Skana folded her arms and looked indignant with a furrowed brow at her friend, "That's all baby there I'll have you know, I'll be combat ready in a few months after I get my body back to working condition again."

"As for who that is…" Skana answered as she and Pandora's Actor explained the truth of the events as they understood them to be, Lakyus's face turned dark and brooding.

"So… the Ard Rhi is as good as dead, that was a really dumb idea." Lakyus said with finality in her voice, "But now what about the girl?"

"She's adorable, and Neia sent her to me, so… I'm going to take her home to my estate, get her settled in, and then, well then I guess you've got no choice but to go take Neia back to prison." Skana took a deep breath and tensed sharply as she said it, only for two befuddled faces to meet him when he shook his head.

"Nein, mein fraus, I am not taking her back to prison, the master stroke, the counterstrike of Albedo and myself is going to hit home, and hit home hard, and for that to happen, prison is her very last stop, not her very first." Pandora's Actor wore no evident face, but despite that, they readily picked upon his emotional state, and he sounded very proud and pleased with himself, however before they could inquire further as to just what he meant, the bathroom door opened, and a damp little minotaur girl wrapped up in a towel came out.

"That was amazing! I love baths! I wish I could have them every single day forever and ever!" Mu'Treiu exclaimed excitedly and threw her little arms up into the air, droplets flew from her and struck forward and backward, CZ stood behind the little girl, largely drenched, but not in poor spirits.

"Don't worry, you can." CZ said, and then taking a sticker from the pocket of her maid outfit, she leaned down and put it just on top of Mu'Treiu's snout, and said simply, "Cute."


	47. Verge of Tomorrow

Chapter 46: Verge of Tomorrow

_...Crescent Lake..._

Zesshi's time in the bookshop was brief, there was little to be said, in truth she had only one question. "Are there others?" Her warning to her nobles was clear, but the existence of one so close to the throne, put her ill at ease and wondering if there might have been others. Goosebumps over her flesh kept her skin atingle and her senses sharp as if she were about to enter battle. In the privacy of the shop's meeting area, none reported any other perfidy by the nobility, but it didn't set her mind at ease.

When the last of the women had answered her in the secure privacy of the shop, Zesshi prepared to leave the room that had been depopulated down to simply herself and Bertra, only to pause at the door.

"Wait... My Queen." Bertra said, and sank to one knee and lowered her gaze deferentially, "You gave me justice, Your Highness. Thank you."

Zesshi left her hand on the handle of the door, and turned aside to look at the kneeling former Cardinal.

She then let go of the handle and in a few graceful steps, stood in front of her, and the hand of the young half elven Queen rested atop Bertra's golden hair.

"I am your Queen, that is my job. I am only sorry you had to suffer injustice at all. I've forgiven what you said before, as the ill thought words of someone who didn't know the reality of their words. Like most, you were blind to what you were born into, and I haven't forgotten that when it came down to it, the pain you saw mattered more to you than the comforting familiarity of what you were born into. I'm not exactly wise, not even especially well educated... since I was raised to be a weapon and all. But I'm trying. Maybe what was allowed to happen here under my rule was both my first failure and first success." Zesshi took a deep breath through her nose, then let it out.

"If it means anything coming from the Cardinal of a dead country, I think you'll do fine." Bertra said gently, then reached up to wipe a sniffle away from her nose.

"It does, but you know, I could always do better. During my brief stay in Nazarick while I was waiting to lead my army south, I heard a saying from the librarian there, he said, 'A smart man learns from his own mistakes, a wise man, from the mistakes of someone else.' I didn't give it much thought at the time, however, my late father grossly neglected the royal library, it needs to be rebuilt. Perhaps you'd like the contract for that job?"

Bertra let the corners of her mouth draw up into a smile. "I'd be honored, My Queen."

"Come, let's take a walk, tell me what you'd propose." Zesshi said as she gestured to the door.

They were deep in conversation as they walked the streets of Crescent lake, and found themselves suddenly frozen as they reached the square where the trial was being broadcast.

"Oh my god... Raymond..." Bertra whispered in a hushed voice as they watched the elf girl land in front of him and draw her knife.

"What the hell is happening...?" Zesshi covered her mouth when she saw the gallows behind him.

"I... I don't know, I've been so caught up with myself that... oh no, they can't...?" Bertra swallowed hard when the elf girl who tried to save him collapsed, and her desperate sobs came through the mouths of the demons overhead providing audio accompaniment to the grim tableau.

Zesshi closed her mouth and lowered her hand, "Raymond and... I guess that girl must be one of his rescues, I think I saw her with him at the surrender."

They listened to his final words, their flesh shook and Bertra clasped her hands together in front of her mouth as if to pray to gods she'd abandoned years ago. "No... please no." She could barely get the words out as he spoke and the elf in front of him looked up from her knees.

Zesshi's face became grim, her lips pursed tight and her eyes transfixed, the chair was shattered, and the inevitable happened. "Goodbye..." The Queen over the wood elves said sadly.

Bertra though, could not keep back her own emotions as she watched him die, be cut down, and carried out, she tried to wipe her tears, but they came fast enough and many enough that it was a losing battle.

The reaction around them in the great square was profoundly mixed, some among the elves were cheering as the 'last Cardinal' died in the noose, however others were silent, introspective. Perhaps recalling their own rescue, others, seated with their companions at various small tables, had already begun to argue about his fate.

The parting words of the evidently dangerous elf that had tried and failed to save his life, hung in the air long after she'd departed and the pavilion where the trial took place had emptied.

"I... I think I want to go get drunk." Zesshi said sadly.

"Same here." Bertra muttered.

"Join me?" Zesshi asked brusquely.

Bertra shook her head after she wiped her eyes again, "The honor is a great one... but you're still a Queen, I'm still a peasant, and given everything today, it wouldn't look good. But... when you get time, perhaps late one night, come to my home alone, and we'll drink to his memory together."

"I'll do that. And I'll send someone over later about the library. You... you take care of yourself 'Bertra'." Zesshi muttered.

"I will, Your Highness." She replied softly as Zesshi touched her arm with a brief caress, and they parted ways, returning to their respective homes, alone.

_...Devor Border...Evening..._

"You didn't have to stay with me, you know." Neia stated as she sat on a log and poked at the fire. She didn't really look at those nearby, the peasants she'd rescued and their family members had insisted on making camp and not moving from where she'd stopped.

Mu'Ulm chuckled wryly, his huffing laughter as he sat beside her was the only laughter there was. He drew as many looks as she, still clad as he was in his impressive gear.

"You don't really expect that they'd abandon you after..." he waved his arm out in the direction of the border, "that, do you?"

The numerous shaking heads from villagers and the warriors of Last Home said he spoke for all of them.

"Guess not. But I'd rather not drag you all into this. I was sent to Last Home, I think, with the intention that I die there. As you can see... I'm not dead." She glanced up from the fire, and in the half light of the setting sun, her blood stained and filthy face was not far removed from the spectre of death. Only the shining light of her blue eyes suggested that she was not.

"If that isn't clear, that could be a problem for whoever wanted me dead, most likely... your High King. Whether I hang or go home, you'll still be here when I'm gone, and I don't know if he'd be inclined to take the frustration of failure out on you or not." Neia added with a blunt, brusque voice, only to stop when laughter started to hit the air, the low huffing laugh of minotaurs was still strange to her ears, but she recognized it well enough.

Mu'Bin spoke up as he approached and knelt in front of her, "Angel of Kiril, you were sent to Last Home as a slave warrior, so were we all, we were all dead the day we got there. These are border villagers, as vital and expendable as both of those words can possibly mean. The Kingdom needs them to grow crops... but also needs them to be sacrifices to keep a Devor Empire invasion at bay. You've only seen raiders, but they've got worse out there, golems... blood mages, and more. This is an endless cycle, those who die without parents either become border village sacrifices, or border warrior sacrifices, it's all a show to just pretend for the rest of the Kingdom like we're not on the verge of annihilation."

Mu'Bin spat into the dirt and looked bitterly down at the little spot of mud it made, "We know we have a good king, because our kingdom still exists, but still, we're all walking corpses, so the notion of his 'retribution' means nothing to us. What more can he do, we're all just stuck waiting to be a meal or to breed meals for the beastmen. So staying with Kiril's Angel for a few hours, or overnight if that's what it takes, at the very least it is an honor we will never forget."

"Then... thank you." Neia said humbly. "I'm still no angel though, Kiril's or otherwise. Just a human woman, born, living, and dying like any other. Though..." She cracked a sardonic smile, her white teeth standing out against the blood and the filth that still covered her, "a little more violently than average maybe."

Mu'Ulm looked down at her from the side, "Anyone ever tell you that you've got a gift for understatement, lady?"

"Not really." She said, then turned her attention to Mu'Bin. "Get off your knees, damn it! I may be the Pope, but there's a time and a place." She folded her arms in front of her chest, "So what happened after I left anyway?"

"Chaos. He'd ordered you killed while you were unconscious, but then when you left, Mu'Anik put us all on triple guard rotation for the road and locked himself in his office. Our orders were to kill you on sight." He explained calmly.

Mu'Ulm shot to his hooves and brought his shield and axe to bear, the minotaur champion responded as quickly as he had when confronting the beastmen.

"Wait!" Neia barked sharply, then held her hand up and touched his side, "Wait..." she repeated calmly. "He wouldn't be saying this if he intended to carry out those orders. "Sit down, it's alright."

"I couldn't even if I wanted to. Could I?" Mu'Bin asked rhetorically.

The peasants beyond were stirring uncomfortably at the sudden tension, as were the warriors, uncomfortable first by the tension, and more by the admitted unlikelihood that they could have carried out their instructions.

"No, no I don't think so. If I'm going to be killed in this country, it'll be by father's justice, not an ax to the face or to the back out here in the countryside. A point is being made, one that will help to rid my father's empire of corrupted minds, who will dare defy his laws, if even I can be tried, if even I can be punished? Only madmen or fools. In war, or peace, his will is all that matters. That's what it means to be the Pope, His Black Paladin, his servant, even his own daughter." Far from resigned, Neia's voice was one of ecstatic happiness, filled with absolute certainty and confidence, and in a strange way, a sense of relief.

Neia's hand went over her heart as she stared into the fire, Mu'Bin stood aside and sat on the dirt nearby, the peasants fed more to the flames and brought it higher as the darkness increased, huddling close together as they had when chained and under guard when their fate was reduced to being mere food. An irony that wasn't lost on Neia now. "I swear to you, when I get back to prison... if my wife hasn't already done it, though I expect she has, I'll send word to ensure the full might of my faith is brought to bear in saving your people from your sins."

"Our... sins?" A warrior asked, "Don't you mean, 'save us from the Devor?' they're consuming us after all."

"No, your sin consumes you, the sin of weakness, the root of all sin and all evil. Father's great library taught me that for evil to triumph, all it takes is for good men to do nothing. But I think it was more than that, why do the good do nothing in the face of evil? Because they are weak, they are afraid, or they lack the power to act. It can't be because they are indifferent, because you can't be good and indifferent to evil at the same time. So they're good, but weak, and that is how this happens." She looked over to the border they'd just crossed.

"My people will come for you, because to spread strength is to spread the will of our god. We will bear weapons, knowledge gifted from the divine, teachings and training, we will do all this in his holy name, and with the coming of his will as it covers the land, you will be renewed. Strength however, doesn't come overnight. It may take twenty years... but if you live long enough, avoiding early death, you will see a day when the Devor cross the border and that empire beyond wonders... why have none of their sons or daughters come home alive from the Minotaur Kingdom?" Neia squeezed her eyes tightly shut.

She clutched the necklace Albedo had given her, her breathing became briefly labored, and then it was gone, her breathing became normal, and though her eyes had become black as the shadows of a cave, she felt no serious pain.

"That stung a little, must have been a strong one." Neia muttered, and waved off the looks of concern. "It's nothing, prophecy I think, they hurt like hell, but it seems mother's gift has done its work. Frankly I shouldn't even wear this thing, I should just go with it and let it happen but..." She shrugged, "Neither father nor mother want me to go through that pain so... I would be ungracious and ungrateful if I were to defy them, even for their sakes."

She cupped the necklace and looked down at it, "Unless I miss my guess, this was one of 'her' projects, I'll have to thank her for it later." Neia let the necklace fall and rest against her chest.

The same soldier spoke up again, "What if the Devor should... you know, invade?" That drew nervous, anxious looks, more than a few minotaur mouths opened in terror. "If we grow stronger, they may just decide to take the whole kingdom, and if they do, what then?"

"Then you will have to be strong enough to fend them off." Neia said bluntly and stared through tiny red points in hollow black eyes. "If my people are there, well, we will defend our charges. No warriors of our god have ever fled the field. If... say, a merchant caravan were to be attacked by the Devor, if our warriors guarded it, we would either kill every one of the attackers, or be dead to the last man ourselves. Cowardice is weakness, attachment to the flesh is weakness. Who we are lies within, and we teach that to pass beyond flesh, to the no mind of absolute strength, is where divinity may be found even amidst the deepest of hells."

"Ah, what?" The minotaur soldier scratched under his jaw.

Neia laughed, "Sorry, short version. We'll fucking kill them all or die trying. You want to run, go that way and don't stop till you see His Majesty's banner." Neia jerked her thumb west, and the soldier sat down saying a simple...

"Oh." But it clearly left him deep in thought, and his awed eyes did not leave where Neia sat.

"Mu'Ulm, can you set a watch for the night? I haven't slept in days, and even though when not in combat the Endurance of Unlife can go for quite some time, there's always a price to be paid for it eventually." Neia asked hopefully as she turned her dark gaze up to him at her left hand.

"You got it. Get some sleep, boss." Mu'Ulm grunted out and pushing off his knees, he stood up, towering over even the tallest of the other minotaurs, he cut an impressive figure.

"Mu'Bin, right? Got a problem taking orders from me for the night?" He asked bluntly.

Mu'Bin looked from up at the minotaur champion in the impossible gear, down to the one that champion clearly obeyed, and shook his head. "None. At least for the night."

"Good." Mu'Ulm said as Neia moved from off the log and set her back to the crowd and stretched out, before curling up, appearing even smaller than she already did. She was asleep almost instantly.

"She's not to be disturbed unless there's an attack. Set torches out every twenty yards, three guards for every direction, back ten yards from the torches themselves. Twenty soldiers to escort peasants out to gather wood enough for the rest of the night to keep the fire blazing, rotation every hour, I'll stay up for the first few hours as shift commander, you sleep near me and take the second half. Go get them appointed, see to it, and then get some rest where I can wake you." Mu'Ulm belted out the orders with the practiced ease of one accustomed to command, and when it was finally done, Mu'Bin laid down nearby.

"So what unit were you with?" He asked as he closed his eyes and stretched out near Kiril's Angel and Mu'Ulm.

Mu'Ulm shrugged, "Hornbreaker bandit chief, and then king of the Kirakira prison yard."

"But you're... you could easily have been a unit commander or something..." Mu'Bin exclaimed.

"What for?" Mu'Ulm shrugged and tore at a piece of bread a minotaur woman brought over to him. "This kingdom never did shit for me, why throw my life away for it? At least as a bandit chief I was free for awhile."

Mu'Bin couldn't think of anything to say as a yawn took over his body for a moment.

Mu'Ulm took his yawn and quiet for an opportunity, and went on. "I follow that one because she did more than kick my ass. When the kingdom does something more than barter our lives in exchange for days, let me know. Now go ahead and go to sleep, it'll be a long night, and hopefully a quiet one."

Mu'Bin did as Mu'Ulm said, for the second time, soon drifting off, and starting to snore, leaving Mu'Ulm to go from looking over the peasant rescues, their families and friends, the tattered remnants of warriors doomed to die for nothing, and behind him, the sleeping form of a very small woman whose flesh was still almost completely red from the blood of slaughter.

As he turned the events of the last few weeks over in his head again and again, he finally looked over the border his kingdom shared with the Devor Empire. He felt a swelling confidence in his chest as his eyes lingered on the long and presently empty Highway of Tears. 'You've lined your asses up to the horns over there... you just don't know it yet.'


	48. Do Demons Have Nightmares

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 47: Do Demons Have Nightmares

_...Devor Border..._

"Ever wonder if demons have nightmares?" Mu'Ulm asked as he watched Kiril's Angel shake and sweat in her sleep, he sat close at hand on the log with his back to the ash and embers of the flames where the survivors and soldiers had stayed the night.

"Not till now." Mu'Bin replied as he sat next to the minotaur champion.

Neia's eyes flew open wide as saucers, her breathing was labored and rapid as she sat up as fast as the string of a drawn bow being loosed.

She blinked several times, looked around, and after closing her eyes and stroking the back of her hand for a moment, she stood up.

"God damn, I'd kill for a bath right about now." She said in a banal sort of voice, and you'd have never known from her face that a nightmare had troubled her at all.

"Everybody up!" She snapped and the moments of horror ceased to be on her face as if they'd never been at all.

Mu'Ulm and Mu'Bin traded a questioning glance as if each one tried to understand what just happened from one moment to the next on her face as energy seemed to rise from nothing within her and even the sweat that smeared the bloody face seemed to vanish.

"What are you two waiting for? I've got work to do and there's no time to dawdle." Neia's face became resolute and harder than steel, her ice blue eyes seemed to stare into the deepest places of their hearts.

The peasants and soldiers that had been sleeping soundly began to rise, and those from more distant guarding positions began to come back together with the group, and in no time at all they had been assembled again.

"Mu'Ulm, take command of the peasants, Mu'Bin, see to your soldiers." Neia' gave the orders with such brusqueness and confidence that it seemed impossible to even think of disobeying her. The minotaur warriors formed up in ranks, but the peasants milled in a more 'round' gathering, less a formation and more a cluster.

"In a few minutes, I'm leaving, I am grateful to all of you for coming this far with me, through trials and snares and hardship, I've encountered many a brave soul and many a coward. Many a faithful friend, and many an unlooked for helping hand that I've never seen again. So... Mu'Bin, thank you, and pass my thanks to your comrades, who looked out for me when I was helpless and unconscious after the fight at Last Home. Mu'Ulm, thank you for your loyalty in Kirakira prison, and for fighting beside me in saving what of your people that we could."

"You talk like you're on your deathbed." Mu'Bin responded, uncertainty in his voice and his eyes looking to the right of him where Mu'Ulm stood in front of the peasants, who themselves looked nervous at the thought of losing their initial security.

Neia was quiet for a moment, "I won't be dying in my sleep, but I'm on trial for my life in this country, I killed a man in open court, and someone sent me to Last Home to die, I have every reason to think I'm going to hang in the next few days, if not the next few hours. I can't even say it is entirely undeserved, but that doesn't matter. What does matter is getting done what can get done, while I can still do it."

Mu'Ulm stamped his hoof angrily, "Let me go with you, when they come to take you away."

"For what purpose?" Neia asked bluntly.

"The second goes with the commander, and that's all there is to it." Mu'Ulm replied and folded his enormous arms over his chest, the big shield he carried covering most of his torso, he was the definition of a living wall. "Besides, somebody has to carry the heads back, and I would love to tell the story in Kirakira prison of dumping that pile of beastman heads out in the capital city as a great big fuck you to the king and everybody who says we can't defeat them."

Neia grabbed her belly, threw back her head, and laughed long and loud at the image, like a demon in ecstasy. "Oh by god, yes! Do that."

"Then I'm going as well." Mu'Bin replied resolutely, "Someone has to tell them what happened at Last Home, and nobody knows better than I what Mu'Anik ordered. Even if it is only the weight of a blade of grass, let me put that on the scales in your favor." He said and folded his arms in front of his chest as well.

"Alright... I suppose it's just as easy to send you back to the fortress as it is to take you with me."

A peasant hand went up. "Yes?" Neia asked patiently.

"What about us?" An older minotaur asked, his fur was a patchwork of gray, and his voice was cracked with advancing age that marked him as only a little younger than the one who died on the journey.

"You have a choice." Neia replied, "You can go back to your homes, or... you can go to my temple, I should have a small one established now, I have no doubt that whoever is running the place will take in anyone connected to the Pope. If you go to the temple, and ask to be taught my ways, do not expect it to be easy. Weakness will be erased even if it has to be wrung out of flesh like water from a wet cloth. But the choice is yours which way you go. Mu'Ulm and I saved your lives, but that's a gift, and once a gift is given, it isn't right to decide what the receiver should do with it. But decide quickly, because once that gate closes, don't expect it to reopen."

Her words were interrupted by the appearance of a gate behind her, and a message that rang within her mind.

'It is time, daughter... but when you come, storm this place like you stormed that fort. This is the hour of decision, more than any other before, more than any after.' Albedo said with a gentle voice that was filled with a wealth of pride, pride that only swelled as Neia answered.

'Whatever happens, I will not disgrace either of you.' Neia replied, 'If this is the start of my last hour, take care of father, protect my family, and if there is a world beyond, I'll be cheering you all on from it!'

"Time to go." Neia said, and spun in a perfect military turn, and marched through the gate.

She got to the other side, and found what she expected, the adjudicator and the panel on either side of him, the spellbound audience wondering what would happen next, the demons overhead and the illusionists casting their spells, Albedo and Pandora's Actor sat at their table, Demiurge and Vanysa at their own.

For all the expectations she had, they met them. She however, met none of theirs. Neia stepped through the gate as the embodiment of a blood demon, a whorling void in her eyes illuminated by two pulsing red points, and her body a sheen of blood, much of it wet still from the earlier sweat. Her straw hair matted down, for many it was the first time seeing her face, and around the empire, the burning pulsing red points embedded themselves into memory.

Just as the sky blue did, when those points faded away to nothing, and only a deep sky blue replaced them in the narrow whites.

"I'm back." She said resolutely as she walked out of the gate and to the center of the room, the judge raised his gavel as if to pound it and draw her attention.

"No." Neia said to him, turning her sharp blue eyes toward the minotaur adjudicator, "Wait... please. I don't come alone. And I owe an explanation."

The gavel stayed aloft as the judge hesitated at the unexpected words and actions.

As she spoke, hooves gently echoed over the stone from the entry of one minotaur peasant after another.

"I left Last Home because your country lost some of its precious jewels, and I went to recover them. The peasants you see behind me were taken by the Devor, and my second in command and myself went over the border together, raided their camp, killed all the raiders, and rescued them. The blood of the beastmen stain my body and my clothing."

Silent eyes watched as the filing in continued, and uncertain of what to do, the peasants clumped together a few paces away from where Neia stood as she relayed the story in its entirety, she put no terror into her voice, but spoke sonorously of the fight, the sacrifice of the minotaur woman, the consumption of her flesh, and the assistance of Mu'Ulm.

"Who is 'Mu'Ulm'?" The adjudicator asked as his eyes darted from the blood demon that was the defendant, and the band of peasants that had finally stopped coming through the gate.

"I am." Mu'Ulm said, drawing the adjudicator's eyes to the champion who emerged out of something of legend. Beneath his mask, the adjudicator's eyes widened. "Kiril..."

Mu'Ulm laughed. "No, I'm not Kiril, I'm Mu'Ulm, her second in command from Kirakira Prison."

"But... the armor... the white ax..." The adjudicator stammered out as murmurs began to grow from the panel as much as the crowd.

He shook his enormous head, "Nope, came from her people, given to help her." He pointed to the red bodied Neia who let the exchange pass on uninterrupted.

Neia felt her body relax as she took in the rhythm of the moment, "I defeated him, and now he follows me. Keeps calling me Kiril's Angel for some reason but..." Neia shrugged, "That's neither here nor there, the thrust of the story of where I've been is that we rode out to correct your country's sin!"

The last word was loudly emphasized, "Your country tried to have me killed by sending me to Last Home as a slave warrior, a sacrifice to the Devor, only we killed them all instead. We killed all the Devor at Last Home, and then we killed all the Devor at their waystation on their own ground. We burned their bodies, and we brought you proof." She glanced over to Mu'Ulm, who shrugged off the rope that held the big sack on his back.

It dropped with a thud and fell over on its side, and heads began to roll out.

The gasps became cries of shock, which only redoubled when the minotaur champion grabbed the gray cloth of the sack and yanked it up, spilling the remainder into a pile.

"The Devor can die! The devor can bleed! You sinful, sinful people have let them eat more than the flesh of your brothers and sisters, you've let them eat your very souls to save your own flesh! They are not gods, they die like anything else! Your people can kill them! Only we two were enough, and we slew them to the last, so what then could a country do?!" Neia's voice became passionate and her evangelist gaze captured the entire audience, each seated soul felt he or she alone was being spoken to and heartbeats picked up.

"Rid yourselves of weakness, that greatest of sins, and look what you can accomplish!" She kicked a head for dramatic effect, and as if it had been planned, a hoof from a peasant came up, stomped down, and shattered the head of a lionman into fragments and mushy brain matter.

"In your prison, I found this one!" She gestured to Mu'Ulm, "A cast off who your kingdom considered mere garbage, yet with will and skill he became a god of death in the eyes of the Devor, who turned and fled in terror from him!"

Mu'Bin finally came through the gate, and it closed behind him, hearing the steps, Neia whirled and pointed to him, "That one is a warrior of Last Home, driven to fight with courage, he severed Beastman heads from bodies with the same ease that a child steps on an insect! You can fight! You don't have to be weak! You don't have to be prey! The strength of my god's justice flows through every living vein and pounds in every beating heart! What is the point of existing only to wait to be food?! The reason you should fight isn't just to live, but that a minotaur can stand up, and be free to follow their own justice, pursue the path of their own greatness, whatever field it lies in. Your reverence for strength is mocked by your embracing of weakness to continue to exist. Choose one! Weakness or strength, but if you choose strength, you cannot continue to throw the jewels of your kingdom away to be mere prey to the Devor Empire!"

She stopped her shouting rant, and turned to face the adjudicator, and then breathing hard as if there were a great battle, the blood demon in human form said politely and with a small smile, "That... is what I was out there for. I didn't run from your justice, I chased it down and dragged it back over the border where it belongs."

"What she says is the truth." Mu'Bin said in a deep, booming voice, "The Devor came to Last Home, and for the first time in over two hundred years, we fought, truly fought, and we won! We can beat them!" He raised a defiant fist to the sky.

"Kiril's Angel showed us the truth! We can't keep living as we have, we have to fight! We 'can' fight! They are not invincible, we just have to have the will to resist! Our horns tore open their bodies, our hooves broke their bones, our axes bit into their necks! Our warcry split the sky and made them slow their charge! I saw FEAR in the eyes of the beastmen, something none of our people have seen in centuries... All we had to do, was do what she did... and fight! Charge them, break them, crush them, punish them!" Mu'Bin had lost himself in the emotion of the moment as he described what he could recall of the battle.

"And for showing us that... Mu'Anik ordered us to kill her! She was ordered to go in front of our formation, a death sentence, and yet she lives, we live when we should have died!" Mu'Bin's voice was outraged, "The blasphemy, to try to strike down Kiril's Angel..." He shook his head, "I was ordered to have her killed if she survived, again, those orders came from Mu'Anik, but even if I could do that, I wouldn't... not because she is Kiril's Angel, but because we now know that we can win!"

"That is..." The adjudicator and the panel looked at the heads, the peasants, the impossibly armed and armored minotaur champion, the zealous looking Mu'Bin whose eyes were bright with passionate commitment, and could not think of what to say. He set his gavel down slowly, having finally remembered that he held it.

He swallowed hard from where he sat.

A long silence was around the court as sky blue eyes above a small smile and a bloody face looked over the area as if a great victory had been won, a smile that was mirrored by a demoness at a table who looked proudly over at where Neia stood.

Finally Albedo rose to speak, "This bears greater questioning, that someone could try to have the daughter of His Majesty killed... it is a problem, but I have no questions pertaining to the trial to ask any of these, so I ask that they be dismissed."

Demiurge however, stood up himself. "I have a few questions for those two." He said and pointed first to Mu'Bin, and then to Mu'Ulm. "The rest, they can go."

Albedo and Pandora's Actor traded a brief look of concern. "If someone out there knows where my temple is, please, take them." Neia requested of the spectators, and in the back, a minotaur slowly stood up.

Neia looked at the sea of minotaur faces, and in their mixed emotions, as she saw them bow their heads to herself and Mu'Ulm, for a moment, her mind flew back to the day she revisited the blasted ruin of her home, and beyond, through the passing of years, to the lost lives of those with whom she'd grown up, and of whom she was the last, and she felt as if, impossibly, she was seeing their faces once again.

Then the moment passed her by, so quickly that it was gone with a blink, and they filed past and up the long stairs, leaving her behind.

"The prisoner requires her hood, gag, and chains going forward, that was the agreement." Demiurge kept his sadistic smile in check, but his heart sang when he saw Neia clench her jaw.

"Fine." She said and approached the table where her defenders sat, she bowed her head and held up her wrists.

"Remove the necklace as well." Demiurge said, and Albedo glared at him as she and Pandora's actor affixed the chains to her wrists. She held them overhead and yanked her wrists apart, snapping the chains taut so that it was clear that she was secured.

The low rattle as they relaxed, hid the whisper as Albedo inserted a fresh silver gag over her tongue. "Well done, now we finish this, one way or the other."

"As you say, mother." Neia said with more confidence, and held her mouth open for it to be secured, and the hood closed over her head a moment later. The sense of humiliation from when it all began was gone, she stood erect and proud, while still in the central speaking area, Mu'Ulm, the armed and armored minotaur champion, and Mu'Bin of Last Home, watched in fascinated disgust as she accepted the hobbling of her body and voice.

Mu'Ulm wanted to shout, 'How can you do this?!' he wanted to unleash a sense of anger... but as Neia accepted the theft of her voice and her sight, a thought occurred. He drew his white ax, brought his shield up over his chest, and he began to pound it like a drum. Like a soldier honoring their commander it echoed over the pavilion and beyond, from one corner of the Sorcerous Empire to the other, and in shared disgust at the humiliating hobbling of the Black Paladin, Mu'Bin took his heavy ax, and pounded against his armor, redoubling the echo, indifferent that they stood alone in doing so.

The judge pounded the gavel again and again, still transfixed by the pile of beastmen heads and all that had taken place in that tiny span of minutes, while beneath her hood, Neia's eyes were wet with tears of gratitude.

After what may have been a mere minute, their pounding stopped, and Demiurge pointed to Mu'Bin. "You, to the stand." He said, clearly annoyed, and Mu'Ulm moved away and took a seat behind the Black Paladin, he looked down at the ones in front of him, his watchful eye on Neia's back.

Mu'Bin moved to the podium, and watched a golden haired human stand up from behind the table and approach him. She moved with sultry grace, stepping lightly over the stone until she was close to him. "Tell me, how long has it been since minotaurs won a battle at Last Home?"

"Over two hundred years as far as I know." Mu'Bin answered as he felt his big brown eyes being drawn to the storm grey of the small woman who held her hands daintily in front of her.

"Remarkable victory then, what grand strategy did you employ, surely it must have been great cunning at work to hand you such a victory?" Vanysa asked him sweetly.

"She did something, and then... well we charged and killed them all, I don't remember everything, but she said... things, then all there was, was blood and death until the Beastmen died, after that she collapsed."

"Berserker rage?" Vanysa asked rhetorically.

"I suppose." Mu'Bin said thoughtfully, "That's as good a name for it as any."

"So... the accused drew on some ability of her own to manipulate you all, and as a result, you slaughtered all the beastmen. I believe that is how she ended up 'here' in the first place, isn't it?" Vanysa asked and spun on her heel to look over to where Neia sat.

The chains rattled audibly.

"I submit that this action of hers at Last Home reveals that she 'does' both have and uses a power that can't be controlled, and that she used it there at Wheaton just as she did here, to kill everything without any care for whether prisoners could or should be taken. I submit that she acted on her own bloodlust and not in accordance with the dictates of the laws of war."

Mu'Bin stammered, "But wait, she saved our lives! Had she not done that, we... we were without a fighting spirit anymore, we were warriors in name only I..."

"Irrelevant. It does not matter why it is used, only that it is. We're done with this one." Demiurge pointed out from the table, trading a smug look with his paramour as the first thrust home was made.

"Redirect!" Albedo said sharply and rose gracefully to her feet, she strode over the floor as Vanysa returned to her place, the two passed by one another and flashed competitive grins as each considered themselves victorious over the other.

"You say you had no fighting spirit, can I conclude then that your unit was in a state of great despair?" Albedo asked as she held her hands folded formally behind her back, her wings fluttered in anticipation.

"Yes, yes I'd say so. Despair is the fact of living at Last Home." Mu'Bin replied bluntly. "Or was, until then."

"So, what would you say was her state, was it like yours?" Albedo asked calmly.

"No... not really, she was very forward, never trudged in the short time I saw, everything was a march and if anything, she was emotionless, right up until..." Mu'Bin hesitated briefly.

"Until?" Albedo asked.

"Until she was ordered to the front of the formation, we all knew what that meant, she wasn't just an ordinary slave warrior, she was a target, she was being sentenced to death, nobody survives alone against a Devor raiding party, and being up front, alone is what she'd be. Or... I guess I should say 'nobody did' survive, until recently." He glanced pointedly at the pile of heads.

"So her emotions were running rampant then?" Albedo asked.

"That's how it felt to me, I mean nobody wants to be sentenced to die, nobody wants to be assassinated, so... yes, I'd say she got profoundly angry, still she went and obeyed orders. That's when she did whatever it was, and then we charged and... well, you know the rest." Mu'Bin explained simply, holding out his hands as if to ask if there could be anything else to say.

"So... we're not talking about a calculated move with brutality in mind, but rather a necessary action undertaken in the greatest of stresses to save as many lives as possible, and putting those lives ahead of the lives of those who came to kill you all, aren't we?" Albedo asked rhetorically.

"Absolutely." Mu'Bin replied with conviction and folded his arms in front of his chest defiantly.

"Very good, go have a seat, we're done here." Albedo said warmly.

"Mu'Ulm to the stand." Demiurge ordered, and the mountain of a minotaur stood up.


	49. Questions for Followers

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 48: Questions for Followers

_...Pavilion..._

Mu'Ulm's march to the fore appeared to all as the confident stride of an unbeatable champion, like a god of the arena, like a warrior atop the ramparts daring the world to come fight against what he defends. Towering over the tallest, broader than the broadest, every echo of his hoof over stone spoke of his inner resolve. But inside? 'This is worse than battle. By Kiril's balls what the hell am I supposed to say? And... to my kingdom, I'm just an uncommonly dangerous criminal.' As those thoughts ran through his head, he reached the podium and turned around, over at the table, he saw the curious looking defenders of the Queen of the Yard, the one who broke him to his knees, and then labored to build his people up. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, touching one hand to the armor as if to be sure it was truly real, and caressing his ax with the other, then his hand gripped tight on the shield's grip, and he opened his eyes. 'I can do this.' He resolved and met the eyes of the ones who sought to hang his commander.

"How did you meet the defendant?" Demiurge asked benignly.

"She challenged my authority, then kicked my ass." Mu'Ulm said bluntly. "I was king of the yard till then, after that, we had a Queen, if you want to call her that."

"She challenged you directly?" Demiurge probed, already knowing the answer, he held in his inner smile as he laid the trap.

"No, first she fought someone else, one of the lesser bosses." Mu'Ulm replied simply, narrowing his eyes as he felt a trap coming.

"What happened to him." It wasn't a question, despite being framed that way. Mu'Ulm clenched his teeth, then answered.

"She beat him most of the way to death. Then after that, we fought, and then she made the yard kneel in submission with that... thing, she does." He answered directly.

"As expected of Kiril's Angel." He said confidently, turning his eyes to the hooded commander.

"I see, have you seen her use it since?" Demiurge asked pointedly.

"Yes, she used it to ensure the beastmen couldn't flee, before she killed the survivors." Mu'Ulm answered honestly. He looked to the hooded Neia again, she sat still and unmoving except for the fingers that played with the necklace that lay on the table.

"So, no surrenders, just one brutal killing after another until nobody was left alive? Even then, surely you were pursued. What did she do to the pursuers?" Demiurge inquired with the corners of his mouth turned up only slightly, unable to suppress his pleasure at springing the trap.

"We had no pursuers, we fought only once together, the heads of those she killed, except for one whose head was ruined when she ripped it in half, are here." Mu'Ulm clenched his free hand into a fist, and the one on the shield, gripped the handle even tighter.

Demiurge hesitated, 'No pursuers but... how... I know I... Oh Albedo you cunning, cunning succubus, so that's why you looked so smug in your armor. Still, I didn't think you'd do that for a human.' He disguised his disappointment and carried on.

"So, she butchered those who lost the will to fight, used her skills to turn ordinary warriors into berserkers that would do the same, and finally, left a brutal sign of her passing for the Devor to find, in order to inflict terror on their hearts, after taking over a prison population by beating someone half to death and brutally crushing the rest, have I summed it all up?" Demiurge asked knowingly.

"I suppose but..." Mu'Ulm answered, only for Demiurge to turn and take his seat with a dismissive wave. "I'm through with this witness.

"A question." Albedo asked, "How many of the prison population did she kill?"

"None. After taking it over, she redistributed food to the starving, took from the hoarders... such as myself, then saw to our training and education. She built us up." Mu'Ulm answered admiringly, "As one would expect of Kiril's Angel."

"And when you fought together at the outpost, what would have happened if any had been allowed to flee with their lives?" Albedo asked bluntly.

"Then we'd have had pursuers up our asses before we got a third of the way back, catmen are fast, and they have relay stations, the Devor Empire is very well organized, even we know that much. We'd have had to fight every step of the way home, would lose who knows how many, if we survived, and even if we did, well the Devor Empire would feel the need to launch a punitive invasion, they did that once two hundred years ago, killed ten thousand of us just because one unit decided on its own to save a stolen village of a hundred. Since everyone died this time, it's just a mystery, after all, who would think a human could or would do something like that?" Mu'Ulm laughed a bloodthirsty laugh.

"So, in your eyes she did the only thing she could?" Albedo prompted.

Mu'Ulm's voice grew stern and serious, "In my eyes, she is Kiril's Angel come again, her god must be Kiril himself, no matter what his name is, look at me! I bear the gear of gods, just the two of us slew over a hundred and fifty Devor raiders in no time, and saved over a hundred lives, and that's ignoring the Fortress of Last Home. She absolutely did the right thing, the necessary thing. Kiril has turned his eyes to us, of that I have no doubt, and he has given us his angel to show us the truth we've forgotten! We've forgotten to be strong! We've forgotten how to do this!"

And he let loose from deep within his guts, a minotaur warcry and held his ax aloft. His battlecry rang over the pavilion and out into the streets. When it faded, he began to shout.

"Yes! Yes, it was right! Yes, it was necessary! Only the strong can have justice, only the strong can have vengeance, only the strong can be safe or save their own! The lesson was well learned out there and we will not forget it! She's no criminal! I'm a criminal! She!" He leveled his ax toward where Neia sat, "She represents the divine god of necessity and war! Whatever happened out there, 'had' to happen, and I believe that whatever happened in the place beyond this, during that war she was sent to, had to have been as bad as what happened on our borders with the Devor, for it to drive her to that state!"

Albedo felt Pandora's Actor touch her hand, and leaning over, she listened to him whisper to her with great rapidity.

"Alright, I think that answers everything, you can take your seat, and you'll be returned to prison after this." Albedo said with a very self satisfied grin.

Mu'Ulm departed the podium and went to a seat near to Mu'Bin, and sat resolutely and with his back erect, as close to his commander as he could.

"Then... I suppose there is only one thing left to do." Vanysa said sweetly. "We call General Neia Baraja to the stand."

_...Menowa...Temple of Black Justice..._

When Nua finished laying Raymond's body to rest, she lingered beside the stone coffin that now rested above ground. It was tightly sealed with a heavy, ornate stone, one that had a human form laying over the top of it, a human form that looked... suspiciously like Raymond.

She glanced at Solution. The maid demon looked back at Nua with an enigmatic expression on her face. Nua held the question on her tongue, swallowed it, and then said in a small, but confident voice, "Thank you." as she laid her hand atop the stone face on the lid.

Solution shrugged, "It's fine, he was an excellent killer, quite the demon, even if he did have a few soft spots, and you know what, it didn't hurt him at all when he went. There are worse things than that." She let out a malicious smile, "I ought to know, I'm 'one' of those worse things, and thanks to me, so are you." She approached and patted Nua's cheek gently.

Nua did not avert her eyes, "Some damn fine work we did on you, don't waste it."

"As you say... teacher." Nua replied sincerely, and returned to her work within the temple as the laborers did more work outside of it. So it was, until the following day she went to work, first reviewing supplies, and going over the latest set of orders when Mu'Sula's voice carried from outside her door.

"Come." She said perfunctorily without looking up from her documents.

"You've got visitors... a lot of em." He said with confusion clear in his wide eyes.

Her brow furrowed, "Services aren't for hours..."

He approached the small desk in the back corner of the temple and stood in front of her, "Yeah, that's what I said, but they said they're from the border, it's... well you know how I love a good story? Well they've got a 'good' story." Mu'Sula said urgently.

That had Nua's ear, she took up her papers and tapped them lightly on the desk to make them even, and handed them to her minotaur assistant. "Alright, tell you what, get these sent out to the relevant places, the order for the first group of undead skeletons is in there, I only have so many scrolls and so many wands, so we're going to need to requisition more of both, better get that done in advance, and on your way out, send those in." Nua's voice was clipped and professional, her golden eyes alight with confidence and eagerness to keep working.

"You got it... boss." He said politely and winked to go with his huffing laugh. He walked out with the contented strut of the well paid, 'Can't believe I almost tried to kill that one.' He thought to himself as he went out, and sent the others in.

Nua found herself then facing nearly a village worth of peasant minotaurs. She stood and gestured to the simple pews in front of them. "Come, sit, in the temple of His Majesty, god of strength and justice, I greet you as I would a sister or a brother, no matter our birth flesh."

This set the minotaurs at ease, enough so that they quickly sorted themselves into groups. By age and family.

"What can the priestess of Black Justice do for you today?" Nua asked as she took a central position on the one foot high raised floor, so that both pews were equal distance from her, and she was positioned in front of the long aisle's blood red carpet that ran over the cream colored stone floor.

The eldest of the group spoke and began to relate the story of their taking, and their dramatic rescue by the minotaur champion and the woman on trial.

"Mu'Sula was right, you did have quite a story to tell." Nua said dryly as the story came to its end. "I can hardly turn down a request from the very founder of my faith, the dark savior of my race, so the question is, what help would you like?"

"What can you do...?" The elder minotaur huffed out in the labored voice of the aged.

"I can provide you with training from our instructors who are dispatched to prison but reside here. I can see that you are trained for war, pay for some homes for you to live, essentially I can do what needs to be done to see you settled into new lives. My Pope would be displeased if I were ungenerous, and after all both our god and the pope herself has done for my people?" Nua shrugged, "I can't do less for those she saved."

Minotaur mouths old and young opened as she laid out what she was offering. "We aren't of your faith. So why?"

"I wasn't of my faith when our dark savior broke our chains and destroyed our oppressors. I wasn't of my faith when my god decreed we had a place in his empire equal to any human or other thinking being. Of my faith or not, you are my brothers and sisters in spirit, and as I would have done for me, I am commanded to do for others who have done me no wrong. That is the meaning of my justice." Nua's face was alight with happiness that distracted her, however briefly, from the fact that she had a treasured friend resting outside.

"I want to fight the Devor." A young minotaur, one clearly in his teens if she were able to guess it, his stamping hooves and developing muscles, and middling size, said that well enough.

"Combat training is part of my faith. Our methods were first developed by Neia Baraja, but then were refined by the servants of god in his paradise of Nazarick. Those who choose to join us, learn to fight in that way, and we provide equipment to those who wish to do so in a professional capacity. A few have even become Black Paladins now, like the Pope herself. I even met one of them once... terrible with jokes, but it is a truly deadly path to walk for those who make it."

Nua folded her hands in front of her demurely and her voice was as direct as it was gentle. "I will do these things for you in honor of my Pope, my past, my god, and your will to survive. But I will tell you what the maid demon who taught me how to fight, told me. It seems appropriate, given how rare and lucky a moment this is for you, 'Don't waste it.' For now, rest here in the temple, when Mu'Sula returns I'll have him see about more long term quarters nearby for you, and arrange for work for those who want it, or training in new skills with the instructors. Whether you convert or not is your own affair, it is only for me to carry out my justice as I know it to be."

"Thank you..." The eldest of the minotaur elders said, bowing his head deeply in gratitude.

_...E-Rantel..._

Skana practically whooped a battle cry as the minotaurs spoke and the head of the beastman was utterly crushed. The baby kicked within, "Yeah, you're right to be excited little one, that's your other mother out there, wherever she walks, even if she's thrown down to be a slave warrior, she will rise again to sway hearts to her will, one day... one day you will do the same."

Lakyus put her hand on Skana's shoulder, "Seeing the future are we?"

Skana let out a little knowing smile, "Call it an... educated guess. Look who this little one's teachers will be, how can we expect less than that she set the world on fire?" She closed her eyes and drifted into a daydream.

A wild haired young man in armor the envy of kings, twin swords aloft in front of legions... the name of his house on the lips of the horde as the legacy was handed to another generation... "I can't wait to meet you." Skana said down at her belly.

"Thought of a name yet?" Lakyus asked curiously.

"Zyanya if it's a girl. Gottfried if it's a boy." Skana said as she kept her face transfixed on the scene while the behemoth minotaur answered questions and spoke passionately in the Pope's defense.

"Think you'll ever forgive those two?" Lakyus asked out of the blue.

Skana shook her head violently. "Never. I can barely be in the same city as they are without my skin crawling. Traitors, both of them, I don't care about their motives, and quite frankly I can only even forgive the demoness because she was acting on orders... and it will still be a good while before I'll welcome her to my home."

"Guess I shouldn't have asked that, should I?" Lakyus asked shamefaced.

"No, it was kind of dumb... but that, I can forgive." Skana graced Lakyus with a gentle smile, "I know what you want to ask, but even for you... that's a lot, so please, please don't."

Both their hearts quickened... "She's coming to the stand..." Skana whispered. She put her hand over her heart as it pounded out a thousand beats a moment until Lakyus snatched Skana's free hand in her own.

"Relax, you know this isn't the end, this is just the beginning of it, please calm down, it'll be alright..." Lakyus whispered urgently as she drew closer to Skana's ear.

_...Palace of the Draconic Queen...Balcony..._

Queen Draudillon looked out over the trial as the minotaurs spoke. "You've got something on your mind, don't you?" She said to her undead advisor.

General Oma approached and put her hand on the Queen's shoulder. "You know I do."

"After watching this unfold for this long, yeah, I'd imagine so. Go ahead, out with it." Draudillon asked and took a sip from her goblet of fruit juice.

"Not wine is it?" General Oma asked in a neutral tone as she saw the goblet in the Queen's hand..

Draudillon didn't frown, she just held the goblet out to reveal the contents. "I'm done with that, Queen Zesshi made her point clear enough to me before."

"Good, and I was just thinking, after they find her innocent, you should pay a visit to the Papal estate to convey your personal gratitude. OK... truth be told, it was Vermillion's idea more than mine... but still." Oma remarked and took her head off and bounced it back and forth between hands like a ball.

"You're very confident to be that casual." Queen Draudillon remarked with a hint of doubt. "It didn't look nearly that one sided, oh sure, they hate the Devor, no doubt about it. But at the same time, while that might be enough for common folk, if their versions of judges are like ours, they'll minimize the influence of their own preferences. To my eyes, it could go either way."

"Maybe it's just my own bias talking then. The Slane Theocracy 'did' kill me, and they tried to kill you." Oma said bluntly. "Worked out, but still, nobody knew it would at the time."

Queen Draudillon lost herself in thought for a moment as she spoke, "Fair enough, but... maybe some optimism is good, a vote of confidence might comfort His Majesty have a message scroll convey the offer to himself and to the Pope's wife. We'll plan a gift suitable for a baby born to... hell she never did get an official title other than pope and general and squire, and her wife was never higher than a Vice Commander and an 'acting Pope'... nothing of high nobility but... I guess their child would technically be a princess even if she never uses the word. Yes, something suitable for a child born to a royal family."

"We'll assume something happy comes up next, and that one way or another, things will work out for the best." The Queen flashed a smile down at the head held in Oma's palm.

"There are worse approaches than that... now I'll shut up, looks like she's going to take the stand." Oma tossed her head up in the air, catching it neatly on her neck, she stood at Queen Draudillon's left hand, and together they rested palms on a stone rail, to watch the final hours unfold, one way... or the other.


	50. Through Her Own Eyes

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 49: Through her Own Eyes

_...Menowa...Pavilion..._

Neia stood from her table along with Albedo, who with surprising tenderness turned the diminutive human girl to face her, and removed the hood enough to undo the gag. She raised the hood enough to see her daughter's eyes for herself, "Ready?" She whispered, to which Neia could only smile in the small way she did when she knew there was only one way forward.

The Guardian Overseer folded her hands over the hood, about to pull it down again. Then on impulse, she looked up to the sky above, white clouds drifted aimlessly, demons flew in the center, circling like vultures. Her hand stopped in mid-motion. She leaned down and whispered into Neia's ear, "Your father watches, and is proud. Whatever happens next, let him see your face."

She then yanked the hood up and off, then threw it in disgust into the center of the floor. With her fists clenched she leaned forward over the table, "My client should face her accusers, enough of this, it's a pointless humiliation now. She has shown clearly enough that she will not hurt anyone simply for the sake of hurting them!"

Countless eyes lingered on the hood, to the point it almost felt like the wearer had been forgotten.

The adjudicator hesitated, unsure of quite what to say or do, Albedo fixed him with a golden eyed stare, and it might have gone on longer, had after a brief whispered conversation, the demoness prosecuting Neia stood and said, "We have no objection to such a minor change."

"Fine, but if she loses control, I will render summary judgement." The adjudicator responded and pointed his gavel at the defense team, "You are taking responsibility for this."

"Of course, guter adjudicator!" Pandora's Actor snapped out as he popped to his feet and bowed dramatically.

He and Albedo then slowly took their seats, Neia breathed a sigh of relief, and shuffled in chains to the podium. Her chains rattled, and she watched Mu'Ulm twitch uncomfortably when she reached her place and looked out over the scene arrayed before her. She looked out over the sea of faces, then up to the sky, where she was sure her father was watching from his private office. 'My voice. Your will.' She thought to herself, then taking a deep breath, she spoke. "Alright, let's do this."

Demiurge eyed her like prey, it was a good look for him, Neia hated to admit it, but he never seemed more himself than when he was ready to make someone suffer. She thought back to the test he'd given her years ago. When he smiled at her, Neia was reminded of the way Remedios had stood over her. The way the once noble paladin had crowed with joy as she'd essentially started carving the Pope to pieces.

Neia smiled sweetly in return. 'I won't make it easy for you.' She thought to herself, and felt sure that Demiurge read that in her face.

"Tell me, General Baraja, how many citizens survived the destruction of Wheaton?" Demiurge asked as if he innocently had no idea.

"A few thousand, mostly those who were wounded or hid. But out of the men, women, and children of the city, there were perhaps four thousand all total. I don't know the exact numbers, never did." Neia answered the question with blunt, military crispness, devoid of any emotion in the answer.

"I see, and how many were combatants?" Demiurge asked bluntly.

"At one point or another, most of them." Neia answered, "A lot of the battle is a blur to me still, I remember flashes, but every time I think I remember it all, it's like there's a new blur beyond it. However it was clear to me that they armed the entire population, creating essentially a suicide city that was going to win or die."

Demiurge cocked his head to one side as if confused, "Are you telling me a ten year old with a sword is considered a combatant?"

"If they're old enough to push it into your guts, and they've got one in hand, yes. I wasn't much older than ten when I killed for the first time, and I guarantee that you can find ten year olds in the Holy Kingdom that turned to killing during Jaldabaoth's invasion. You underestimate human brutality, we may look soft, pink, squishy, but when pushed... we will fight. You want my opinion, we're just different looking demons."

Demiurge pursed his lips at that, then went on, "So you were killing demons then, is that why you ordered the massacre?"

"I never ordered a massacre." Neia answered bluntly.

"Did you not tell them all 'kill, kill, kill...' or something to that effect?" Demiurge pushed sharply.

"Not on purpose, I lost my mind over what I saw inside the academy. Technically I suppose I 'did' give the order..." Neia started to say.

"So you're lying when you say you didn't order a massacre." He pounced on the answer, but Neia did not even change her expression.

"I can only tell the truth as I know it. I never intended everybody to die, I thought it would be just another victory, I'd never lost myself like that before, I'd never done that to so many that way, I didn't know I could." Neia answered calmly, keeping her hands folded together on the podium, she fell quiet, waiting for the next question.

"And the ones you had mutilated, and the prisoners you had beaten to death?" Demiurge pushed at the buttons of the blood soaked black paladin.

Neia answered with cold resolve on her stone face, "I gave the mutilated more than they gave their victims, a fighting chance. I punished them for mutilating the elven slaves, and for using their hands to hold whips. I warned the entire country I was coming, that I would punish them severely if I found those vile practices in force still. If they chose not to listen, then they took responsibility for the consequences. I just happened to be those consequences."

"And the ones beaten to death?" Demiurge asked.

"I never beat anyone to death... well, except for that one soldier in Wheaton." She answered calmly and watched the way Demiurge's lips twitched.

"The masters who were captured and brought to you." Demiurge reminded her.

"I didn't beat them to death, I just gave them to their former slaves. Those slaves chose to beat them to death." Neia shrugged it off impassively. "It may be a vile institution, but... I am compelled to admit in candor that not all were equally bad. There were slaves who protected their masters and the families of their masters because they were treated with loving care. It blurred a few lines for me, I don't deny it. Some it seems were slaves only in name, and those were not harmed when I poured out the bowl of wrath over the Slane Theocracy."

"Were you not responsible for any prisoners taken?" Demiurge asked pointedly.

"I was, and I released the masters and mistresses to the custody of the former slaves. It wasn't for me to decide their fates once released, if the slaves had chosen to spare them, or care for them, then..." Neia shrugged indifferently.

Demiurge kept his frown buried. 'She should have broken... well still, covered in all that blood still, at least she still looks like a monster.' He thought to himself, then he heard the sound of a shuffling paper, and saw Vanysa catch his eye.

He approached her, leaned down, and listened to her whisper.

His smile restored itself, and he straightened up, turned, and approached the podium so that he was standing directly in front of it, then he leaned very, very close.

Neia felt the sweat springing to her skin, a sudden feeling of being trapped overcame her as Demiurge closed the distance, leaning far into her personal space, she felt her breathing quicken, her fingers tense, goosebumps rose on her flesh and her hairs stood on end. She clenched her teeth and only just barely restrained her impulse to growl.

"Did it feel good, Neia, to fucking kill them all?" He whispered the question, and she snapped.

Her tense hands drew up and then slammed down like a hammer on the podium, shattering it.

"NO!" She howled even as her defense team was rising to their feet.

Her voice echoed over the pavilion, and the word gave her defenders and prosecutors pause, and the Black Paladin filled that pause with a desperate cry.

"I hated it all! I didn't want to be or make myself a monster! I never did! It didn't feel good to look at screaming men and women, it didn't feel good to burn Wheaten down to ashes... I never wanted any of those things! I wanted a peaceful world where we could live justly and fairly alongside one another, all of us! Minotaur! Human! Vampire! Elf! Orc! His Majesty showed me the truth, all I tried to do was share that truth...! But what else was I supposed to do?! Someone, anyone, tell me another way?! I had masters and overseers and breakers and mistresses and fanatics dedicated to the old ways so well that they went to war to stop me!" Neia left the place where she stood and walked to the center and yanked her arms out, pulling the chains taut.

"I won't deny what I've done! I won't deny my mistake, that I misused power I didn't even know I had, and that a lot of people who might have lived... died instead. But I never wanted anything but to live my life happy, free, and safe with someone I loved, I was forced by circumstances beyond my power to fill a role... like some storyteller compelling me to act against my wants, for some larger purpose. And so I did what I had to do! But don't ever tell me I wanted any of those things! Don't tell me that! I didn't! I swear I didn't!" Neia's sky blue eyes glassed over as she looked to the far reaches of the pavilion, but it wasn't minotaurs she saw.

Pain stabbed at her brain and she clutched her head again. "Hurts... It hurts..." She managed to whimper out, "When the children of demons and angels have risen in all nations under the reign of god, the World Tree will release Ragnarok to consume the world." She got the words out and slipped to her knees, clutching her skull.

Her brain felt like it was on fire as visions passed before her eyes of an endless horde of monsters sweeping like waves of the sea over the shore.

"Make it stop!" She yowled in pain as tears ran down her face, she'd barely started the words before Albedo snatched up the necklace and moved as fast as the light of a freshly lit torch to fill the darkness. Albedo crouched over Neia and put it over her head, then pulled the girl against her chest and held Neia tight against her chest until the pain finally passed. The necklace fairly glowed with the mana it absorbed.

Except for the mild cries of pain, no other sound broke the stillness.

When it faded away, Albedo got to her feet, and helped Neia to hers, the little pope smiled gratefully up and clinging briefly to Albedo's hand, she mouthed out a grateful, "Thank you, mother."

The Guardian Overseer winked, and stepped away. "Do we need a recess?" The adjudicator asked anxiously.

"No... No, I will continue." Neia said as she straightened herself and was again the larger than life, storied woman of the war years.

"Do you have anything else?" Neia said as she turned her piercing blue eyes on the prosecutors.

"Your witness." Demiurge said flatly to Albedo as he reclaimed his seat.

"Very well, then General Neia Baraja, what were your motives in the course of the events that brought us to this day?" Pandora's Actor asked in his grandiose theater voice.

"Simple. End it all. I was confronted with brutality, so I had to make it worse in order to make it stop. I destroyed Yanana to ensure the South would break without any serious fight later. I destroyed Wheaton because it was housing assassins... I was not in my right mind when I ordered the slaughter, that is all I can say in my defense there. Had I been in my right mind, I would not have given such an order. Though perhaps it did save lives on our side, it was still wrong and it wasn't planned. But my motive at every step of the way was the same, the end of the war and the supremacy of my father's will. Had the Slane Theocracy or their allies fought gently, I would have done the same. Had they abandoned their vile practices as I told them to, I would have imitated General Enri in granting amnesties to keep the peace. But... we saw what happened there. Not that I fault her, she just didn't know what fanatics were really like."

"And you do?" Albedo asked curiously.

Neia answered honestly, "Of course I do, I am one. I won't pretend I'm not. His Majesty IS justice, and I will grind everything in his way to dust and blow it away into the winds if he only gives me the order. You want to know the real difference between my fanaticism and that of say... those who rose against Enri? It's that my fanaticism made room for everybody, but theirs only left room for themselves."

"Do you think of yourself as a monster? Do you think of yourself as guilty?" Albedo asked.

"Look at me." Neia said softly, "I'm... well I'm soaked with blood even now. I can feel the brain matter under my boot still. I see myself as a woman with purpose, and I became what I had to in order to win, except for my loss of control that one time, I say that I did nothing more than what had to be done to bring that nightmare to an end. Now it's over. Am I guilty? I am guilty of a lot of things, and I 'am' the commanding officer, the General of that army, everything that happens is my responsibility."

"The coin stops with me." Neia said coldly, "I was in charge, therefore I was responsible, and having lost control of myself when it was my responsibility to remain in control, that makes me responsible for what happened thereafter. I can offer no defense except that I was under extreme duress. I leave it to the adjudicator and his panel of judges to determine how far either of those have value."

"Do what you will with me, my god's will is done nonetheless." Neia concluded.

"That will be all, reclaim your seat." Albedo said, and the bloody General shuffled in rattling chains to sit between her defenders, and left the court in silence.

'What the hell is Ragnarok...?' Mu'Ulm wondered, 'What the hell just happened with her, I didn't even think she could feel pain? What the hell is a World Tree? Why do I get the distinct feeling I should be very, very concerned about what she just said?"

Little time was given for him to ponder those questions before Demiurge stood up.

"Your honors, if it pleases you, I move that we continue to our closing remarks. I cannot speak for my counterpart, but I intend to be brief." He said with great courtesy in every syllable.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are here today because of butchery most foul, in violation of her master's orders, in violation the conventions of combat to which she was bound, General Neia Baraja engaged in slaughter on par with demons, true, she is only on trial for Wheaton, but looking at her record from Hoburns to Kami Miyako, where she went, blood flowed whether it should have or not. You have heard from her victims and her survivors, you have heard the analysts speak, you have heard her soldiers and her accusers and her peers. Everything that should be said, has been said. So now I am asking not for you to love her victims, I am asking one thing and one thing only from you."

He slowly walked to the center of the speaking area and pointed with graceful ease to where Neia sat, still stained with blood and grime.

"Call a monster a monster, a butcher a butcher, a war criminal a war criminal. Find her 'guilty' and punish her accordingly. Thank you." He then went and sat down beside his partner, and waited.

Albedo rose to her feet, placed a hand on Neia's shoulder.

"I will likewise be brief, my counterpart was right about one thing, we've heard all that needs to be said, so my closing will be equally brief. We do not deny the nature of the events that took place. But we deny that these events make her a war criminal. A woman pushed beyond all measure, thrust into the fires of war, she became a monster to fight monsters, a demon to fight demons, she did what had to be done, until no more could be done. Yes it is true, she lost control, but we argue that this would not have happened, had the Slane Theocracy not made itself so monstrous that one soul could bear it no longer."

Albedo squeezed the shoulder of her daughter reassuringly, "They forced that poison down her throat, they cannot then complain that it was in her. Her actions were just the fruit of that poisoned tree which 'they' planted for themselves. As her actions and the actions of her army were neither planned nor intended, and as the city itself had determined to fight to the death by arming the entire population, there can be no question that, tragic as it is, she cannot be held to account as if she had organized an intended massacre. I ask only that you understand this, through her eyes, through the eyes of those who suffered at the hands of the Slane Theocracy, and recognize the wrath that was born of her compassion, not her cruelty, and find her for what she truly is... Not Guilty."

She then sat, demurely, waited.

The adjudicator banged his gavel sharply and spoke in a voice as sharp as the crack of his gavel. "Very well, we will deliberate on the matter, and render our verdict." The adjudicator responded, "For now... return the prisoner to... no, return her to Kirakira prison. I suspect it would be ill advised to send her to Last Home."

"Very." Neia said impulsively.

The adjudicator shifted uncomfortably. "Tomorrow then."

"Finally." Neia, Skana, Lakyus, Enri, Gagaran, Keeno, Ainz, Jircniv, Draudillon, Calca, Albedo, Demiurge, Zesshi, and all the watching Empire either said, or thought, as one, no matter where they were.


	51. In Her Own Words

Chapter 50: In Her Own Words

_...Menowa..._

Nobody picked up the hood that had been thrown away in disgust by Albedo. It sat, neglected and gratefully forgotten. Neia, Mu'Ulm, & Mu'Bin sat with Albedo and Pandora's Actor until they were left all alone.

"I'm due back in Kirakira prison." Mu'Ulm said, breaking the ice, "But can I go back... like this? I want them to see me in this gear, because it's the only way they'll ever believe it." His brute voice suddenly boyish as he spoke, he laughed, "And if I'm being honest, I don't want to let it go."

"Serve my faith loyally, and if you are released from prison, if you swear to use it for the will of my god, you will bear the finest arms my temples can provide you." Neia said proudly as she thrust out her chained wrists to take the behemoth's hand in hers and shake it firmly.

"I am your minotaur, you did what I thought couldn't be done, whether you're around or not, I won't forget that, Angel of Kiril." Mu'Ulm replied with a nobility that not long ago, he'd forgotten he ever had.

"She will survive." Albedo said crisply, as if to command the wish to be reality.

"I hope so, mother." Neia said comfortably.

"It will be so, ja." Pandora's Actor added as he patted Neia's back.

"I hate to ask this but... can I ask for one of those [Gate] things to send me back to my unit? It's a bit of a long walk." Mu'Bin scratched under his jaw uncomfortably.

"Ja, mein guter minotaur." Pandora's Actor said, and a few moments later, the [Gate] opened.

Mu'Bin looked down at the two, "Thank you, and General Baraja... I doubt very much we'll meet again, but I'll not forget what you did, or what it means. I hope you survive, make it home, and live peacefully for the rest of your days." Mu'Bin said, and reached out and shook her hand in turn.

Neia smiled up at him, "Thank you, I think you're right, we won't meet again, one way or another but... one day soon, it may be that the Baraja children ride East, with a grown minotaur girl as one of them, and they will know your name when they do. Look for them, and when they come, the Devor Empire will begin to see its end."

"Is that a prophecy?" Albedo asked curiously.

Neia shook her head, "Just a prediction really. I know who I am, who my wife is, and what we will teach our children. Even if I don't live, my wife will ensure our legacy, and I will not forget what the Devor are."

Mu'Bin bowed his head, "I will look to the west every day, until I meet them." He then turned, and stepped through the gate where he vanished.

_...Nazarick..._

Ainz stood still as a statue. "Ragnarok... she said it... she said Ragnarok..." He wished he could still swallow. His emotional inhibitor went wildly into overdrive.

He thought back to the heydays of Yggdrasil, the last big event of the company. How every single guild on their server had come together, and even the 'gods' in the form of shitty devs had descended in their own avatars, to fight a single titanic clash in the battle of Norse mythology where the NPC world enemies like Loki had armies of monsters that spawned endlessly until the world enemies were defeated. "Something like that... here? I feared it... but to hear it from a prophet is very different."

Ainz paced the floor in front of his mirror of Remote Viewing. "I need to know more, and I need to prepare more. To face off against that... I need the world at my back, and I need more power. Even as a god..."

His eyes fell on the wall, where a map of the nearest nations rested, pinned, this one was far more elaborate than the first crude one he'd managed to acquire, it showed the triumvirate, the vast empires of beastmen, and the kingdoms around them on which they preyed.

He approached the map and put a skeletal finger on the Minotaur Kingdom. "Thanks to my daughter, you're next. But you'll come quietly." He traced his finger east. "Devor. Mictan. Tlaxan." He read the names off, and mentally reviewed what little he knew of them. 'Made up of mainly predatory beastmen, they use golems and magic based on ripping mana directly out of living things... Vanysa proposed something like that, but mentioned her methods were crude, if we can acquire that knowledge, something might be made of it. Golems are their favorite battle support. Vast territory, I wonder why they haven't eaten themselves into extinction like Rargnan's Kingdom almost did. They must have something that sustains them that minimizes the need for food. If I'm going to ensure we triumph at Ragnarok, those empires will have to fall. Everything will have to fall.'

Ainz felt his red eyes pulse, 'Alright, so if I have to take over the world after all, fine, isn't that what my daughter said, she wanted to hand me the world? We'll need bigger armies, vast beyond measure. Hundreds of thousands of Black Paladins, Red Paladins, of every race, training for centuries, assuming we have centuries at all. So... the world will belong to me, or it will die. Well done, daughter, well done indeed.' Ainz thought, and then went and sat down in his chair and thrust his face into his hands.

"Gah! How do I live up to this?! How can I meet this kind of challenge...? I'm a salaryman, damn it!" He cursed, then froze as it hit him, and his hands came away from him.

"No... I'm a guild leader, and this... this is the ultimate event. Plus... when other players arrive, I may be able to draw on them for help, maybe? They'll know what that is and what it means, I just need to prove that it's coming, be able to prove it quickly when they show up. So... great. How the hell do I do that?!" He asked the empty room, and lost himself in thought for a very long time.

_...Menowa..._

Neia sat in the quiet carriage as they rode back to Kirakira prison. "Do you think it went well... mother?" The Black Paladin asked.

Albedo gave a grave and serious nod, "The brutality you exhibited against the Devor... one might think it would work against you, but they 'hate' the Devor with a passion. It endears them to you, I would wager that even now..." Albedo's face began to split with a smile and she, for once, turned to Pandora's Actor who was shifting uncomfortably, "Go on, say it."

He thrust his hand dramatically toward the roof of the carriage, "That even now! Even at this very moment, your speech, 'You can fight back!' is already on the lips of every male and female of the capital, that scavengers have gone to see the pile of heads the terror of the West brought as a trophy! That even now you," he thrust his finger towards Mu'Ulm' are entering the realm of living myth for killing so many, they will speak of the minotaur champion, they will speak of the angel of their god come again, and they will not dare to strike you down meine gute Frau!" He finished with a great dramatic flourish and folded his hands into his lap.

"Yes, precisely that." Albedo said succinctly. "This time has been well used."

Neia bowed her head, "Then I can say what I said when I reached Prart after escaping Wenmark. That it wasn't for nothing. If they do take my life, I can go knowing father will have this kingdom one day as a final gift." She smiled at the wrathful look on Albedo's face.

"Mother, don't give me that look, someone here wants me dead, I can only speculate why, but I'm a prisoner, and I'm not a god, I can be killed like any mortal. All any mortal can do, is make our lives matter while we have them, for what means most to us." Neia's smile was sweet and serene as she sat back against the cushion of the carriage. "Besides, as I learned in the library, when you've resolved to lose your life, you are at your most powerful."

"I'd prefer you not die that way." Mu'Ulm uttered directly and tapped his meaty fingers on his left knee. "I want to see what else you'd do here."

Neia reached up high and put her hand on his shoulder, looking up at him, she kept that serene expression on her face, "Even if I live, I'm going home, I'll have to leave you behind to finish what I started. Work with those of my agents I send to you, and when it is possible, I'll have a request put in that sets you free to work beyond the walls. As I said to Mu'Bin, when the children of my house ride east, including little Mu'Treiu, I want her to find allies ready and waiting for them all."

"Are you already thinking about another campaign, Neia?" Albedo asked with a raised eyebrow.

Neia nodded sharply and turned her attention to her mother. "I am, mother. My experience on the border has taught me that the Minotaur Kingdom is weak, but not irredeemably so. We can build on it, make it something worthwhile, but that 'will' create conflict with the Devor. I haven't the wisdom of the three geniuses, nor even the demoness, let alone father. But I know war, the Devor will, sooner or later, run across my devotees. When they do..." Her eyes filled with darkness and red points pulsed like twin beating hearts, her hand went slowly out between the four of them in the empty space between the seats with her palm up, and she closed her fingers inexorably into a fist.

"My people will fucking kill them all. When they exterminate the Devor parties, the Devor will surely recognize our weapons, equipment, and methods as a threat. They 'have' to respond, and when they do... I want hundreds of thousands of Paladins of every kind, ready to fight. The black, the red, the white of the old guard. I want our elven rangers, the children of the surviving scriptures, the goblins and orcs. I want dragons and death knights and the very power of god to become the shadow that rides east. I want to make the largest army I commanded in the Battle of Kami Miyako, to appear to be nothing but a parade drill. The Triumvirate will kick over a hornet's nest, and when they do..." The serene smile on Neia's face became cold and calculating as a demon. "Father will rule most of the continent, and what little is left, will bend a knee in gratitude that he took it."

Albedo's silver laughter filled the coach and her golden eyes shone with devotion as she caught the sense of Neia's vision of the future.

Mu'Ulm felt a tingle run up and down his spine. "If you were not Kiril's Angel, I would've thought you to be Kiril's Demon." He said with a deep huff of breath.

"The difference between a demon and an angel is nothing but perspective." Neia shrugged as she spoke, "I do what has to be done, nothing more, nothing less.

For a moment they were all quiet, and Neia reached down to play with the necklace that hung around her neck, "Thank you, mother, for this. It greatly eases the pain and keeps the worst things at bay. Was this one of Nazarick's treasures?" She asked as she clutched it with urgent tightness.

"Not originally, the demoness made it for you, using some of my blood. By the way, she also informed me of Demiurge's plan to drive you to get the peasants killed, I managed to prevent that, by killing your pursuers." Albedo's expression was that of the cat who swallowed the canary. "That hurt his plans badly."

"I didn't even know about them... th-thank you... sincerely." Neia whispered as she tried to imagine what state she'd have been in if she were forced to bear witness to the deaths of those she'd fought to rescue, and then been immediately dragged into court. Her face went pale white. "I'll have to thank my friend later... I guess I was being a little cold to her."

"Time enough for that, but only if you survive, meine Frau." Pandora's Actor remarked casually, to which Neia could only offer the silent assent of a grave expression as they rolled through the massive gate of the great prison.

"Go on down, we'll take care of the minutia within, and reclaim your equipment, go make a good impression. I doubt Mu'Ka will object when he knows the story." Albedo gave a malicious smile that said he wouldn't be objecting even if he did have objections.

So within minutes, they were standing in the great open yard of the prison, like bloodsoaked figures of legend, as prisoners and instructors approached.

Hooves kicked up dust, as did boots of the elven teachers, but before it could become a mob, Mu'Ulm shouted a loud, "Fall IN!" and within a handful of breaths squares of soldiers formed up.

Wide brown eyes were staring at the minotaur champion with awe, his bloody matted fur and the equipment that could have only come from a god, sparked envy as much as awe.

Not less so, was the even more bloodstained Black Paladin that had taken over the prison. She stood behind Mu'Ulm, and he spun on his hoof and rendered a crisp military salute. Above, guards watched with unbridled fascination, she glanced their way, and suppressed everything to embrace the rhythm of the moment, and returned his salute.

"Mu'Ulm, take command, and tell your part of the story.

He did. Loud, booming, grandiose, but not a word exaggerated, though he had to pause as cheers and stamping hooves interrupted him repeatedly, most especially the part about the severed heads, the red hand, and the promise of death sweeping east in their lifetimes.

Neia took up her part of the narrative, going backwards from Mu'Ulm's arrival at Last Home, till she was done. "And that's everything." Neia said like she'd just given a weather report.

"I expect tomorrow I'll be leaving here, whether to go home, or to go hang, I honestly don't know, but I'm proud of you all, you've come a long way. Your people are worth fighting for, and remember this..." She punched her fist fiercely at the air, "You can fight back! They can take your lives, but they can't take your justice, they can't take your strength, they can't take your will, they can't take who you are, only you can give those things up, and having seen the state of your kingdom, you know trading those things away for a few measly days of life, just isn't worth it! Fight! Fight! Fight!" She pushed her evangelist voice to its limits to drown their hearts in a sea of will deep enough to drown their fears.

"We can fight back!" The call was taken up, first among the prisoners, but then inexorably above, like heaven was echoing them, as the guards took it up for themselves, hatred of the Devor ran deep among the lot of them, and the bloody figures in front of them proved that it could be done.

Neia looked up at Mu'Ulm. "You've got your army, now make sure that, even if I can't be here, that my children are one day impressed by what you've done with it."

"See to their instruction, I leave you in command, me, I'd like to get clean. I'm sure I stink to the heavens." Neia uttered with a crinkled nose.

"You do, you really do." Mu'Ulm crinkled his own large nostrils a bit, and Neia smirked.

"Uh huh, just get to work, they're in your hands now." Neia said, and within moments of Neia's departure for her improvised bathing area, the minotaur champion was bellowing orders and the instructors began running drills and rotating students through various crafts and tasks.

She reached the place where water flowed lightly, and raised her bucket and rope up above when it filled, then stripped and stood beneath the lightly falling trickle. "God that feels good." Neia whispered as she ran her hands through her hair, washing the blood away over her skin and returning to her native gold, her skin slowly restored to its natural self, she swore briefly when it was over. "Damn it... need my prison uniform." She cursed mildly, until a set of clothing flew over the low wall that obscured most of the yard.

She caught it smoothly, "Thanks!"

She heard a squeal of excitement when she spoke to her benefactor. 'One of the elves, got to be.' She rolled her eyes and put her clothing on swiftly, leaving one hand on the slightly off colored pattern of her father's symbol.

Her eyes closed and she turned her face to the west. "Soon, so soon. I'm not tired, but... if I can sleep, tomorrow will come sooner, and I can finally get this over with."

With that in mind, she left the shower area and found that the same elf who had tossed her clothing had obviously returned her equipment, as Mu'Ulm clearly no longer had his either. She sighed wistfully, 'Damn, it's hard to go around without armor on when you're used to it.' She thought to herself as she left the yard, and walked back to her cell. As she passed various guards, to her surprise, they saluted her, each one, until she returned to her cell, found her cot, and closing the bars behind her, she fell asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.


	52. Father's Wrath

The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 51: Father's Wrath

_...Palace of Mu'Fidelius..._

"That could have gone better." The Ard'Rhi said from behind the desk in the office he shared with the Ard'Rhigan.

"It also couldn't have gone worse." She answered bluntly from her own desk. "Maybe she really is Kiril's Angel, what else could explain how we ended up with a pile of beastman heads in the pavilion? Or how she took over the prison, or got the ones sent to kill her, to obey her? We may very well be dealing with a god after all." She shuddered.

"So what the hell do we do now?" He asked, and started to huff and puff as if he'd used a great deal of pressure.

For a moment he thought it was just his own fear getting the better of him, then he saw his wife was breathing hard as well their eyes locked with one another, they felt the chairs on which they sat begin to crack as a terrible weight began to bear down on them.

"You can start... by explaining yourselves." Ainz said as he dispelled the enchantment that disguised his presence.

The pressure increased, the chairs cracked and the royal couple crashed to the floor, landing hard on their asses. Ainz took a few steps over the stone floor, the light clicking of bone echoed in the chamber.

They wanted to speak, but the grip of death's hand over their hearts stilled their tongues.

"Yes, I am a god. Level one... but still. And you tried to kill the child of god, a child I entrusted to you to treat fairly, so that all the world would know that I am just. So that all the world would know that guilt is not expiated by position." The staff of Ainz Ooal Gown tapped lightly over the stone as he approached where they sat still, unable to rise or move or speak.

When he reached the space between them, his faceless head turned from one to the other, "On second thought, forget the explanation, I asked a truly worthless question. I don't care what your reasons were. I never trust a betrayer twice. Instead, you will listen to me. For trying to kill my daughter, I would normally give you over to the demons who live in my service. For making her, however briefly, a slave warrior meant to fight the beastmen, your suffering would be boundless, and you would beg for death until nothing existed that bore your names."

Mu'Fidelius felt his nerves on fire with fear, he could see his wife was no better off, he wanted to beg, but could not. 'I can't... move, what's... it hurts...' He clenched his jaw tight against the pain.

"But..." Ainz held up a skeletal finger, "I won't be killing you, and I won't be doing that. And you have my daughter to thank for it... sort of." He tapped his staff impatiently on the stone floor, and went on, "You see, she's attained the power of prophecy, her predictions about your kingdom bring you into conflict with the Devor. And one of her prophecies, spoken on her way back here from over the border, mentioned you both. Do you understand?"

Mu'Fidelius managed to shake his head ever so slightly, then bowed it deep to press his jaw against his chest.

"Very well, her prophecy has you on the throne before it begins. I won't interfere with that, as you set into motion some grand events. However, your continued lives..." [Despair Aura Level One]

Raw terror swept through their bodies, trampling their pride and their spirits, with a single utterance, the Ard'Rhi and Ard'Rhigan... felt their wills break utterly. 'Obey, swear to submit, deny him nothing! Kiril save us... wait, could he actually 'be' Kiril?! Did we betray our own god?! Swear anything, swear everything...!' Mu'Fidelius thought desperately as his entire body trembled and he collapsed onto his back with a thud.

Ainz continued, his deep, noble voice thrumming through their hearts. "Are in my hands. You will not interfere with anything, not ever again. My followers' temples will have free reign, you will quietly support them. You will speak of this meeting to no one, and if my temple sends a request, you will find some reason to give them what they ask. Your kingdom remains 'yours' but you, your lives, your souls... belong to me. Resist me even slightly, and prophecy or not, your suffering will go on until the world itself is destroyed. Obey, and your ends will be as you make them."

He killed the pressure around him, "Am I understood?" He asked with the quiet calm that existed at the heart of every terrible storm.

Their broken, terrified expressions from down on the floor, was answer enough. "Good, I will not visit again. Woe to you, if I have to send someone." [Greater Teleportation] He said, then he was gone.

It was ten minutes before the Ard'Rhigan managed to speak, and they began to rise from the floor. "Well, now we know what to do."

"Yes. Whatever we're told." The Ard'Rhi replied with a tremor in his voice that he was sure would never, ever leave him, because it had embedded itself into his heart like a knife sheathed in a victim's flesh.

_...Kirakira Prison..._

When Neia woke up, she found herself waking to an unusual sight, Warden Mu'Ka was standing outside her cell.

"This is your last day, isn't it?" He asked neutrally, and reached up to take the bars in his hands.

She slung her legs over the side of her cot and sat up, she folded her hands in her lap, looking down at the floor, and took a deep breath. "I think so. Here, or in this world, or both, I don't know, but it is the last day for something." She replied with tranquil calm.

He let his head bow slowly, his horns clinked against the metal bars. "You worked a miracle here... Angel of Kiril. You made beasts into people, gave futures to the futureless... and you saved hundreds of lives... you did in days, what we couldn't do in generations. Your god... must be god, if he made it possible for you to do this."

Neia felt a smile grace her lips despite the trembling in her heart. The little corners of her lips turned up, and she said, "That's what I've been saying. I still insist I'm not Kiril's Angel though."

"That's what Kiril's Angel always says when she appears. Your denial proves your identity as much as your deeds." Mu'Ka replied seriously, and then added, "In the old stories, Kiril's Angel endured terrible trials to build up heroes to serve Kiril's will, and she always found them in unlikely places. I can't think of a less likely place than in a den of wild beasts like this."

Neia chuckled a little, "I've been called something of a wild beast myself, so from my perspective, I can think of nowhere better. So, once I'm gone, what happens next?"

Mu'Ka kept his head pressed against the bars, and his voice was somewhat sad despite the words that poured out. "A lot of things, your instructors are going to be allowed to stay, I'm going to start selling the prison goods through your temple in the capital to be distributed to merchants, your priest there has been busy evidently, spreading wealth and... well, I'm getting in on it. Kirakira prison's manufacturing of goods will give the prisoners income, and allow them to live honestly when they leave these walls. I'm going to start using my parole passes for your most loyal followers, and I'm going to reach out to the other wardens in other prisons. I want to recommend they request similar systems be put in place for their prison population."

"Everything changes, not always for the better, but I'm glad this is one of those occasions. Whatever happens next, my time here mattered, that's all I can ask." Neia said serenely, then stood and bowed deeply to the warden. "Thank you, for letting me work without interference."

"You don't have to sound like you're going to die, are you suicidal?" Mu'Ka asked anxiously as his grip on the cell bars tightened so much that the movement of his fingers was audible.

"No. No, I don't want to die. I want to live. I learned that years ago, I want a lot of things though, that I never got. Can I tell you something?" Neia asked as she straightened up and put her boots on before walking to within a few inches of the bars. She looked up into the downcast face of Mu'Ka.

He looked down at her in turn, and said a simple, "Yes."

"Courage isn't the absence of fear, it's acting even when we're afraid, and doing what we should do. A few days ago, when Mu'Ulm and I were on our way back from the raid on the Devor camp, I was alone beneath the stars and covered by night, I begged my god, my father, for my life. I begged that if there was any way I could continue to live, to have a life, to hold my baby and birth one myself, to be a mother and a lover and live peacefully into old age, and still work his will here... that he forgive me my sins and let that come to pass. But... here I am."

Mu'Ka released his hold on the bar and reached within, "I've watched everything you've done, I've had every word passed to me, or listened from above as you worked... so why...?"

Neia took his enormous hand in both of hers, "Because, my life is an example, both good and bad, that's what it means to me to be where I am, who I am, what I am. I want more than anything to go home again, but if my Lord needs my life, he needn't even ask. I know to the bottom of my heart it isn't whim, but necessity that guides him, and against necessity, even gods must bend. I know he loves me, and would spare me this if he could, so because I love him, I will bear even the noose. Though I... I want to see my baby, I want to see what little Mu'Treiu becomes. I want to see tomorrow, but their tomorrows will be darker if I don't set a good example now, right up to the end."

"Then... Good luck." He said grimly, and put his hand on her shoulder, then unlocked the cell door and slid it open. "You have a few minutes before your defenders arrive, 'your' people are gathered in the yard below, there's time enough to say goodbye."

"Thank you." Neia said sincerely in a soft, quiet voice, and he watched as she walked with her back straight and with even, steady footsteps falling over the stone floor and metal grating that let the rain filter out. She appeared completely without fear, as if she were about to stroll into a command office and not about to go to the trial for her life.

He didn't follow, not at first, instead he only went to the place where he'd have the best view, and looked below.

The behemoth bandit and former king of the yard stood in front of the ranks of soldiers. The once doomed and once starving minotaurs were considerably better off, holding firm, fixed positions as sergeants, elven instructors served as officer aids behind the formation, and in the light of the dawn, it appeared more like an army unit assembling for a ceremony, than a band of rough prisoners.

Neia made her way down the long winding path around the rectangular building until she reached the bottom. She walked over to the formation and stood behind Mu'Ulm, who turned on his hoof and rendered a salute.

She returned it crisply, her fist over her heart. "Go ahead, fall in, I don't have long." She said quietly to him, and he swallowed hard, but obeyed and went to stand behind the formation.

"This is it." Neia said sharply, "My time with you has come to an end, one way or another, I don't know what that end will be, but I want to say..." She took a deep breath, her body shook with the trembling sorrow of a farewell, "I want to say how proud I am of all of you! When I came here, you were reduced to beasts scrambling through the dust and dirt and blood churned mud for a scrap of filthy lettuce, today... today, you are warriors again! You have your pride, your dignity, your worth restored! Many of you would offer thanks, but as a servant of my Lord, I know that the only thanks that matter are those that transmit to deeds! And also, that you did this yourselves! I threw you a rope, it was you who pulled yourselves up out of the pits! Never forget that, and never forget... You can fight back! And to be yourselves, you MUST!"

"Fight back! Fight back! Fight back!" The chant went up, from guards, instructors, and prisoners alike.

She basked in the radiant glow of warrior vigor and looked up to the sky, "You have an army here father, waiting for you, when you come for this place." She mouthed to the blue above her.

When the chanting died down, and she felt the presence of two behind her that she could never mistake for anyone else, she went on. "I leave my second, Mu'Ulm, in command here. Obey him as you would me, until I come back."

Mu'Ulm, drawn to the front by her words, returned to stand in front of her, and again they traded salutes. "Mu'Ulm, they're yours, use them well, and take good care of them."

"I will. And I will always be," he kept an eye toward the statuesque succubus and the faceless man that were rapidly closing in, "your minotaur. Good luck out there, and since I don't much like goodbyes, let me just say, till next time, in this life, or the next."

He thrust out his massive hand, and Neia grabbed his forearm, and he clasped hers. "Till then, whichever it is! I'll be cheering you on." Neia replied, and in an impulsive act, she pulled him in with force that should not have been possible, and embraced him. His jaw opened in surprise, but he fell easily into the powerful embrace of the short human woman.

"Best of luck, little brother." She said as she hugged him.

His arm touched her back, and practically covered it with just his free hand. 'Little indeed. God she seems like a mountain, but still... so short.' He returned the embrace of his war sister, and they stepped back from one another in common accord.

Neia turned around and faced the two.

"It's time, isn't it?" Neia said softly.

"It is." Albedo said in a motherly voice.

"You've said your farewells?" Pandora's Actor inquired without his usual dramatic flourish.

"I did." Neia answered calmly, and the two turned around, and let her fall into step between them.

Behind her, after a few steps, she heard the shouting, "Baraja! Baraja! Baraja! Baraja!" Her name beating at her back shouted from the many throats of prisoners and imprisoners alike as she walked out of their prison and into their legends.

The shouts faded, but she barely caught the shout of Mu'Ulm as he took control and ordered the drills to begin.

They made their way to the exit, and got into the carriage. It was a silent, solemn trip, Neia sat staring out the window as the terrain rolled past, it was a fairly pretty country really, a little short of trees by her reckoning, a lot of grass and dirt, but not without its own charm on a pleasant, warm day like this one.

She tried very hard not to notice that Albedo and Pandora's Actor were looking out the windows themselves, rather than at her. She managed this pretense, all the way to the stopping point.

When the carriage stopped Neia saw that the heads she'd taken were on spikes outside a temple she couldn't mistake for any other than her own. "Looks like the priest decided not to waste my efforts, that ought to pack the house."

That merited only muteness, and none of them moved to exit.

Neia took a deep breath, "We can't wait forever. But... let me say this before we go in. You two did your best for me, I can't ask more than that, nobody could have done better. If we don't win, if this 'is' it, then please know that there really was no victory to be had. And... and let me say this. Pandora... I never had brothers growing up, but if I had, I'd have wanted them to be like you."

She swallowed, she felt emotion filling her voice, things she couldn't control. She shut her eyes as tight as she could for a moment, before parting them wide to stare into Albedo's gold with her vibrant blue, "I didn't have you as a mother for very long, but... for that little time, you were the best. If ever I let you down before in my service to father, I ask your forgiveness, and please... please take care of him, his heart is deeper even than he knows, and please... please ask him to forgive me for failing him here if this is my last hour."

She fought like hell with the roiling tumult in her heart, and giving way at the last, she embraced them with such rapidity that just like her words, she caught them off guard.

Neither Pandora's Actor nor Albedo knew what to say to that, there was nothing they could say, and all that they could do was give in, and let it happen, before coming enough to their senses to return the familial embrace.

Finally Albedo managed to whisper, "You will not die today, I will not let them hurt my house. You will see tomorrow, come what may, have faith!" Albedo grasped Neia's shoulders and held her tight, her wings shook until she forced them to wrap around herself and be still. Her left hand went under Neia's chin and lifted it up to meet her eyes, "You have a mother's promise, and that counts for more than the world."

Neia felt her breath calm and her body relax, "Then... let's go, you can't keep that promise, if I miss the damn trial, can you?" She managed a mild little laugh, and Pandora's Actor exited the carriage, then assisted them down with one hand, Albedo first, followed by Neia.

She held her hands up to accept the chains, and opened her mouth for the gag.

"Nein!" Pandora's Actor said forcefully, and taking the objects out of his pocket dimension, he threw them hard through the archway and into the pavilion, cracking stone where they struck. "They will not disgrace meine sister, let them face you with the courage the world demands of you, or let them flee!" He stamped his foot hard for emphasis, cracking the stone deep beneath the surface.

"As you say, then." Neia replied, and she followed her mother into the great opening.

The entire area fell into silence as she descended without the rattle of chains, without a hood to hide her face and without a gag to bind her tongue. When they reached their tables and sat, Albedo glanced smugly over at Demiurge and Vanysa one more time, both appeared nonplussed, but a tiny spark seemed alight in the storm gray eyes of the demoness.

Albedo looked up at the adjudicator, and then over to the gallows where a fresh rope was waiting and a chair had already been put into place. The hood thrown aside, still lay where it had been thrown, nobody moved to pick it up, nobody suggested it be used.

The succubus and the adjudicator held looks of mute argument between them, 'I dare you, I dare you to demand it of her today!' Albedo seemed to be saying, and it was enough to make him turn aside his look, and call the court to order.

The adjudicator stood up, "In the long, long weeks of this trial, we have heard more out of the west than we've heard in the last three centuries combined. From the twisted nature of the Slane Theocracy, to the violence of the Scourge of God. In any other lands in any other times, what she did in retaliation would barely merit criticism, and most often would be cause for celebration. However, this is a first in this world, where a set of rules were imposed for a campaign, and where it is incumbent upon us to judge, not based on our desires or what our choices would be, but on whether or not there was an unjustifiable violation of those imposed rules."

He reached for a cup of water, drank, then set it down.

"Now, if I may ask the court to please rise for the verdict." He said in the deep voice of his race, he waited for the sound of thousands of seated participants and observers to pass as they got to their feet.

"After deliberations that took most of the night, we, the panel of judges appointed by Ard'Rhi Mu'Fidelius in accordance with his trade agreement with the Sorcerer King of the Sorcerous Empire, have found the defendant, General Neia Baraja..."

He swallowed hard from where the panel stood on either side of him.

"Guilty on all charges." When the uproar began, all he could do was to stand silent and bang his gavel.


	53. There and Back Again

Chapter 52: There And Back Again

_...Hoburns..._

"No... oh... no..." Queen Calca whispered, pressing her hand to her chest, her breathing became labored. "Human sacrifice indeed..." Down below among the others watching the verdict rendered, the capital erupted in horror and outrage as their national hero became a convicted war criminal.

_...Crescent Lake..._

Queen Zesshi's expression did not change when the messenger arrived and reported the guilty verdict. It didn't change, because she could hear the shouts of outrage in the streets as the founder of the cult that broke their chains, stood condemned under the law. Her eyes closed at the first cries of outrage, and listened with regret as the messenger told her what she already knew. "Damn it." The Queen whispered, "If she hangs, we reach out to her wife. They didn't abandon us, we won't abandon her."

A low rumbling of agreement and discontent swept the court as her proposal was accepted.

_...E-Rantel..._

"By god... they did it... they really did it... I asked for this, I pushed for this, I wasn't wrong. I wasn't." Enri told herself as she sat in the square beside Gagaran. She put her hands together as if in prayer, "It had to happen, it had to be done. So why?" She looked over to Gagaran who sat nearby. "Why do I feel so sick?"

Gagaran didn't answer, if she even heard the question, it wasn't evident, she was still just looking up at the illusory projection as the word 'guilty' rang over and over in her head.

Skana stood on her balcony, and stared open mouthed at the projection, CZ and Lakyus flanking her, prepared to catch the woman if she fell from sheer shock. Her fingers held tight to the rail, she didn't feel the touches on her shoulders, all she saw was the face of her wife, until that was clouded by the welling in her own.

_...Kami Miyako..._

When the word 'guilty' was read aloud, cheers ran through the streets, the taverns served free drinks, and operating hours were dismissed so that celebrations over her guilt could go on long into the night. However within the governing center, there were three who didn't cheer.

"Not going out to celebrate?" Heikeren asked from the other side of the desk.

"No, not really. Let them celebrate, I've got work to do." Boabdil replied wearily.

"Really, now?" Ira commented from beside Heikeren, "I mean... isn't this kind of a big deal? She killed so many of us... can't we savor the fact that we got some justice?"

"And what would we have done, if we'd won this war?" Boabdil asked rhetorically. "This doesn't make me feel better, this makes me feel worse." His haggard, careworn face looked older by the second. "If we'd won, Carne would have been butchered, most of the Holy Kingdom would have been put to the torch, and that's just for a start. I don't feel good about this, because..." He tapped the quill in his hand against the document he was working on, and snapped it in half when he gritted his teeth, and stared hard at both his former Vice Commanders.

"Because this just makes us worse, we'd have lauded men like Suchala as heroes, Remedios as a patron saint of humanity, and every vile thing done to our fellow humans, among others, would have been celebrated for centuries to come. Yet here we have our hated enemy, the undead, and what does he do? He puts his own daughter on trial in a neutral state, and they find her 'guilty'. They give us justice, and you know what makes it even worse?" Boabdil snapped and threw the broken quill against the wall and shot to his feet, staring down at the two young former officers.

They sat mute, watching the rare outburst of emotion from their former general. "What makes it worse is... that the demon of the west has been so serene about it. The only time she showed anything was when our own brutality was rubbed into her face again. That bastard she killed might have been the nail in her coffin, but I'm certain she believed, even in her rage, that killing him was justice. And after all that we've heard... do you disagree?"

They took that in with uncertain expressions, before Ira answered in a delicate voice, "I, well, I can't, not really. Having worked with some of the others of the Sorcerer Kingdom now I admit, it's not easy to see them as just animals to be used or monsters to be put down. But still... after what she did, I can't help but feel that justice is being done."

"Maybe, maybe not. There were worse than she in this world though, now be a dear and get an old man a new quill, my old one seems to have disappeared, and I'd like to get my memoirs finished soon." Boabdil smiled in a grandfatherly way, and the two young former officers could not move fast enough to help him.

_...Menowa..._

Neia stood unmoving as the verdict was read, a hand on each shoulder, her heartbeat didn't change, she only glanced over at the noose, and looked at it with a welling of sadness in her breast.

When the noise finally began to die down, the adjudicator went on. "However, it is the conclusion of this court, that the extraordinary duress under which you were placed was a causative factor beyond your own control, and therefore, mitigating circumstances exist. Too, the fact that the city itself had become an army, armed and equipped and prepared to resist, further exacerbated the casualties beyond what they might have been. Finally, the testimony of the late Cardinal pertaining to the guidance of Cardinal Dominic and General Suchala, as well as General Remedios Custodio, and the postwar plans, created an extraordinary situation from which there was no ideal solution. Therefore." He took a long, deep drink of water from a cup close at hand, then set it down and continued.

"We sentence you to life imprisonment, to be served at your home, with one parole per year to perform your duties to your god, within the limits of your homeland, but nevermore to venture beyond it. You will spend almost every day for the rest of your natural life, confined to your own grounds, until death takes you. Do you have anything to say for yourself?" He asked with more courage in his voice than he truly felt.

Neia looked up at the adjudicator and the panel through her sky blue eyes, the towering mountain of a woman that seemed so often projected, had somehow now come to seem small, even fragile. "No, what had to happen, happened. I'm just glad it's over. For what it is worth... for what harm I did that shouldn't have been done, I will be sorry for, until the day I die."

"Then that is all, have her chained and removed to return to her own country to serve out her sentence, this court is now adjourned." He snapped out and slammed the gavel down with finality.

Neia didn't move from where she stood, or even notice as the chains were put back onto her wrists, she was rooted to the spot as people filed out of the pavilion, till none were left but the trio of demons, Pandora's Actor, and the demon of the west.

Demiurge approached the blank faced Albedo.

"You won." She said calmly, her golden eyes fixed on the crystal ones of the archdevil.

"I did. But it is an incomplete victory. I had wondered what we could do with her corpse." he shrugged as Neia met his eyes.

"You wanted an undead prophet, didn't you, Lord Demiurge?" Neia asked with certainty.

"Among other things, I wondered if you might have become strong enough to become an Abbadon. Or if you might take on the nature of the Fury of Wrath. So many possibilities, questions I'll now not have answers to." Demiurge sighed regretfully for the lost research opportunities.

Neia smirked a little, "Not lost, just delayed. I'm a mortal, sentenced to spend my natural life imprisoned in my home, but the judge said nothing of an 'unnatural life'. If it is father's will, when I'm gone, do with it what you want."

"For what it's worth, I'm real sorry." Vanysa said with a little frown on her face, her golden skin and sharp fangs, flashing slightly as she bowed deeply in apology. "I swear I didn'a ever wanna hurt you. Just... what good's a sorry after it been done... yer mah friend an ah tried ta kill yah."

"You were obeying His Majesty, I can't ever complain about that, and besides... you helped make this for me." Neia replied, held up the necklace. "You saved me from pain, great pain. I won't forget that."

"And will again. His Majesty has assigned me to protect you at all costs, if anyone ever wants to hurt the Black Paladin," she held out her talons with her palm up, and clicked them together lightly, "they will have to pass over the corpse of a Tisiphone Fury to do so." Her storm gray eyes watched Neia intensely. "Wait, this is very interesting." She added quizzically.

"What?" Pandora's Actor asked the slender golden demoness.

Vanysa scratched her horns with one hand, "I don't quite understand it, but... for some reason I have this feeling like the best place for me to be is outside the Pope's bedroom window."

Neia's eyes naturally fearsome eyes grew very narrow indeed when she replied, "There's only one woman who gets to lewd the Pope." She let out a deep breath, and her body suddenly began to shake and she collapsed into the chair.

For a moment Albedo's eyes filled with worry, a moment later, after Neia vomited up her previous meal, the matter became clear as Neia began to sob.

"It's over, oh god, it's finally, finally over... how long has it been... how many months...? I, I can't believe it. I just can't." Neia's tears were those of deep relief as she wiped her mouth and flung herself against the back of her seat and stared up at the sky.

"Not exactly heroic, but all I feel is relief, I may not be free ever again... but I live, and I can work. I can be there when my wife gives birth, I can pick a body father for myself... I think, I think I'm ready to have a child. I may not have the freest of lives, but it'll still be mine to live out how I want within those bonds. Mother... brother... thank you... thank you so much... I'd hug you but..." She held up her wrists and rattled the chains a bit and gave a little sardonic smile.

Albedo snatched the chains at their center and pulled Neia to her feet, the Black Paladin looked up at her in surprise, briefly thinking the flash of anger on their was for her, until Albedo grabbed the links, and yanked, hard, snapping them.

"No daughter of mine will go hobbled into her home. The ruling only said you had to have them, not that they had to work. You are the daughter of the man I love, and I will have it no other way." Albedo relaxed easily as Neia fell into the demoness's embrace.

"Father will be pleased, and you will make a wonderful wife to him, one day, surpassed only by your skill as a mother, I'm sure of it." Neia whispered.

Pandora's Actor approached Demiurge and Vanysa to allow the other pair their moment, he extended his hand graciously. "It was a well fought duel mein Namer. Had we not known of your plans to drive Neia mad at the border before returning her, then she might have been hanged for the display she would no doubt have put on."

"How 'did' you know about that anyway?" Demiurge asked as he pushed his glasses closer to his face.

"I told them, Demi." Vanysa said defiantly as she put her arms in front of her ample chest.

Looked at her steadily. "Don't give me that look Mr. Archdevil. Not only is she my friend, but His Majesty said outside of court I'm to protect her at any cost, she was outside of court at the time, was only my job to crush her 'in' court. I followed my orders to the letter."

Under the eyes of his peers, Demiurge rubbed his temple after a minute of silence, "Perhaps I did misread our master's plans. It's so frustrating to not know what he wills. He must have seen this end, and that's why he gave you that order, to ensure that she survived, while also ensuring that the trial's validity went untainted." The Archdevil clenched his fists in anxiety.

"So don't try? I don't, and I still please him. Just do your best, and he'll be proud of you. Even if it was doing your best trying to get me killed." Neia said as the embrace with Albedo finally broke. "All anyone can do is their best, and try to get better, that's what it is to serve a god. To always strive to improve, like a child under a loving parent's watchful eyes. We will not be his equals, but we can always come a little closer than we did last time. As long as we're doing that, we need never fear his giving up on us. After all... he didn't give up on me, a lowly orphan squire, friendless, alone, untrusted, and still he saw I could be more." Neia stepped quietly toward' Demiurge, the voice of the evangelist rich and deep as an ocean with the certainty of every word.

She pointed to the demoness beside him, "Nor her, a peasant who but for his eyes, would have lived and died in the dirt or been swallowed and forgotten by a beastman. Father doesn't want us to be what we can't be, only to be more than we were, that is his will, that I'm sure of. Everything points to it, he elevated Renner, myself, Vanysa, Rargnan, and countless others. Nobody can ever know the endless plans of our god, but we can discern his will for us, and 'that' we can serve." Neia's eyes were alight with pulsing red orbs like glowing red embers in a fire set against an endless darkness, it was impossible not to get lost in them.

In something akin to a note of respect, Demiurge inclined his head to her and replied, "A fair point. Now though, I've had enough of this place, time to go home."

"Yes, it is." Albedo agreed firmly, "Next time I come east... I intend to skip this place and go straight for the Devor Empire. They will answer for daring to pursue my daughter."

"They will answer with silence, because they will all die." Neia said with a whisper, and touched her head gently with a wince. "Gah, even this, can't stop all of it, I hate headaches. What did I say?"

"Something very pleasant, now, would you like to take the gate, or would you like to take the carriage, your choice?" Albedo asked, waving off the pleasant prophecy for later consideration.

"I want to get home as fast as possible but... I'll never see these sights again, and if I know Skana, she's going to go overboard celebrating my return, and she'll need time to plan it. So... carriage it is. It won't take that long if it is racing over open ground." Neia waved farewell to Demiurge and Vanysa as they departed through the [Gate] summoned for themselves.

"Carriage it is then, I will see you home, Pandora's Actor, you may return to Nazarick, you've been itchy without magic items to touch for far too long." Albedo remarked, and a gate opened for him immediately.

He rendered a crisp dramatic salute, "Gladly, mein gutes Fräulein!" He exclaimed and rushed through the hole in reality as fast as he could.

A few minutes later they were on the road, racing west and watching the scenery pass by.

_...Weeks Later..._

The carriage pulled up to the Papal Estate, and Albedo stepped out as the door opened. She did what had been once unthinkable, and extended a hand to help the human girl who took it gratefully and exited the carriage.

A few feet from where the carriage stopped, the god of death itself stood waiting patiently in all his resplendent glory. "Father!" Neia cried out and rushed to leap into his waiting arms, she fell into it with joy and weeping, "I knew it! I knew you'd come!"

"You were never far from my mind, my prophet, my evangelist, my pope, and my daughter. If I could have..." He began, only for her head to snap up and shake vigorously.

"No father, no apologies, you were a king doing what a king had to do. While there, I did what I could to work your will, and planted the seeds that will bloom into being in the years ahead, one day, that kingdom will belong to you as all the world should." Neia said passionately as she clung to him.

"One day, but for now, you are home, and I wanted to welcome you to it, your wife, predictably, is waiting inside with your friends, but this is a royal privilege I'm exerting, to welcome you first. Albedo, you did especially well out there." Ainz said as he turned his eyes from one to the other.

She blushed deeply and quivered at the praise, but giving it her all, she refrained from leaping at him, instead, she approached with patient serenity. "I wanted only your happiness, and kept my word. Our daughter is safe and unharmed, my king, my love." She looked at him through shining golden eyes.

Neia stepped away and to one side, and with a mischievous smile she said, "Father... mother worked very, very hard to save my life, I think... she deserves a hug."

"Oh..." Ainz said with a brief pause, and for a moment he expected to have to call for the Eight Edge Assassins to restrain her, but instead, she only stood demurely, leaving the choice to him.

It was only a moment's hesitation, like a plant's pause before it broke through the seed that carried it's potential, and then he embraced the daughter of one of his dearest friends, and Albedo melted in his arms, supremely happy, and giving a side wink to Neia, who grinned a knowing grin, and leaving them to their moment, she walked toward the entrance of her home.

She glanced behind her once, and then looked to the distant west and turned her mind briefly to the ruins of the life that vanished when she was only a teenager, and all the ones who'd died along the way. She then looked around to the statues of the heroes who lined the long walkway interspersed with fountains and hedges, and closed her eyes. For a moment she feared to open them, as if she would wake from a dream and find this life she now had was all a dream in the middle of Jaldabaoth's reign of terror.

They opened in spite of themselves, and she found the present still the same. Her steps carried her up to the door, unlocked it with her key, and stepped within. There in the great entryway, Skana stood as big around as a small house, along with many of their companions of war and politics alike, the former elven slaves turned devoted servants, who in one voice shouted, "Welcome home!"

From the midst of the crowd, a tiny minotaur girl rushed over and hugged her leg, "Where were you, I want a story!" Mu'Treiu replied.

Neia wept as she laughed and picked the girl up in her arms and hugged her close as the Sorcerer King and Albedo made their entry at last.

"Here's your story. First I was out There, and now I'm Back Again." Neia said sweetly, as CZ approached, and put a sticker on Neia's forehead, before the heavily pregnant Skana could make her way to her wife, and claim the lips of the voice of god, for her own.


	54. Epilogue -End of God Rising-

Chapter 53: Epilogue

_Epilogue_

When the three geniuses were alone in Nazarick again, Ainz summoned them immediately to his private office. They stood in front of him only long enough to kneel when they'd entered, only to rise and pull up chairs to speak across from him at his command. Even without a face, he was clearly concerned.

"Her final prophecy spoke of Ragnarok. Do you know what that is?" Ainz asked bluntly, his skeletal hand opening and closing in a continuous rhythm.

They traded looks and Albedo finally spoke, "My Lord, we know only what the Supreme Ones spoke of with you in our presence... it took all of you away for a full day, it was so... lonely." She bit her lip briefly, but when Ainz held his silence, she refocused away from memory.

"It's the only thing that scares me here." Ainz said without ambiguity. "It did not just take 'your' supreme beings away, it took 'all' the supreme beings of the second world to deal with it, it was a world ending battle, a titanic struggle like nothing you can imagine, we even worked with our enemies to defeat it." He raised his hand to stop Demiurge's imminent vote of confidence.

"No, don't, Demiurge. I am heartened by your confidence, it took thousands like myself and below, to put it down. It involved world items that ravaged everything. Neia was never within the second world, and I have never spoken of this event to her. It means she saw the future. It means that event is going to happen here. Not for a long time, as best I can tell, too many other events seem to happen first. But... all that means is that we have time to prepare. Do you understand?" Ainz asked in a commanding voice.

"Mein vater, can we win? I remember the Supreme Beings all but emptied the treasury of items that day in the hopes of victory." Pandora's Actor had a clearly worried voice, and he made, for once, no dramatic gestures.

"I never plan to lose. Nazarick does not know defeat. But if we are to win, we will need everything. In short, we will do tomorrow and every day after, whatever must be done, to take over the world, and strengthen it to prepare for the coming storm. These weak beings are useless for that, but in a thousand years, if we can make them strong enough? And if other allies come to us from the Second World? We can win. Preserve the bodies of heroes, study them and learn everything, and I mean everything. We will take no chances." Ainz took a long pause and closed his hands into twin fists that did not open up again as he added...

"I once said this world was an unclaimed chest of jewels. But now I know differently, it is my armor, and I am the one who will wear it, its people are my weapons, and I am the one who will wield them. Now... go, and do everything in your power, to armor and equip me before the storm comes. Give me this world, then make it unbeatable." Ainz answered in his most noble voice, and in a somber, fearful mood, the Guardians left his presence. Shivers were running throughout their bodies with every step, their planning delayed only by their inability to speak through their awe for several minutes.

_...Elsewhere..._

In the days after the ruling that shocked the entirety of the Sorcerous Empire and its neighbors, debate was hot in the streets. Taverns stayed open longer just so people could keep arguing. Schools of learning made debating the ruling the 'final exam' for rhetoric classes and the greatest legal minds of the great empire ripped into it both pro and con.

The elves, of course, were universal in their distaste, petitioning the queen at all hours day and night to plead with the Sorcerous Empire to ignore it. In the end to set the elves at ease, it required a public letter from Neia herself stating that she acknowledged the points made by her accusers and was satisfied with the 'end result'. Though it was noted by those closest to her, including the Elven Queen herself, that she never specified what she meant by 'end result'. But it quieted the elves.

Throughout the runup and the trial, Enri's agents had steadily identified and eliminated the most aggressively supportive of a death penalty and guilty verdict. The end result was that fire pokers who might have rebelled were gradually losing influence and ability. As a result the former humans of the Slane Theocracy began accepting support in Kami Miyako not long after. Thanks in part to Boabdil and Enri's combined efforts, as the ruling against the one they saw as their oppressor resulted in a more favorable view of their rulers. Within two generations, there were none left who were not loyal.

A view that continued to soften as the many orphans of the war began to return as their educations in the Sorcerous Empire were completed and they started to come of age. This process continued over the next fifteen years, until few lived who remembered life without the undead monarch over them, and even fewer who held a less than favorable view.

If any of those covert actions had been driven by Enri's bitterness about the Agante provoked rebellions of the war, she never openly admitted it.

Mu'Ka would go on to make a fortune selling prison goods and was a full convert not six weeks after Neia's departure. He began issuing paroles to those most loyal, putting them out through the Temple in the capital to manage, creating the first work release programs, and with her help, networking to wardens around the Minotaur Kingdom to bring in the priests that served Kiril's Angel, and popular art began to portray Kiril as an undead not long after.

Mu'Bin returned to the fortress of Last Home and found himself being put into command, undertaking the long, arduous task of rebuilding it. Guided by a new philosophy, he began trying to build his fortress soldiers up, while staving off the Devor raids he couldn't defeat, by leaving actual cattle meat in salted barrels for raiders to take away, pretending he had been so cowed that his 'warriors' were being butchered by their own rather than face the Devor again. A deception that continued as the faith began to spread like wildfire.

Lovien died in prison two hundred years into his sentence, and was buried naked in a field to make it a little more fertile.

Neia's prophecies were recorded and analyzed in detail, and she occasionally attempted to stimulate a prediction whenever the necklace was removed to be drained. These prophecies were gathered together into 'The Book of All Days' compiled after her death and held in the private library of Nazarick, off limits to all except a handful of Guardians, though often touched even when it wasn't read, by father, and mother alike.

Stories of the annihilated Devor spread like wildfire among the population, and more and more pressure was put on the Ard'Rhi and Rhigan to militarize. Pressure that only intensified as Black Justice grew in power and influence as year went into year.

The slave narratives sold wildly among the growing economic class who sought out stories out of the west, and the lands of the demon of the west. The result being that many felt the sentence should have been that she be kept in the Minotaur Kingdom. In addition, the old Theocracy with its long term plans for destruction of nonhumans, the stories of their brutality, and their overthrow drew sympathy from the population who saw themselves as oppressed by the Devor in the same way. This further inflamed the militancy movement, and empowered the priests who traveled from the west bearing the doctrine, 'Weakness is a sin'.

Mu'Sula got his wish, no end of stories, and wealth for year after year. Overseeing the implementation of undead labor and giving up the information and connections needed to bring the underworld to heel, he remained Nua's right hand until her departure. After which he retired to his home, and compiled all her stories together into a book, 'One Thousand and One Nightmares and Dreams' which became an instant bestseller and served as the basis for numerous plays for centuries after he was gone. He dedicated the book 'To my first friend' and spoke well of her to the end of his days.

_...Papal Estate...Three Months Later..._

"Push, push!" Neia said urgently as she held her wife's hand.

"I am pushing, what does it look like!" Skana shouted, "I swear it was easier to kill Remedios than to deal with this!"

Pestonya stood near at hand as Skana labored on the bed. Fourteen hours later, and she was finally saying, "I can see the head. Woof!"

"Yeah well there's a lot more after that!" Skana shouted and squeezed Neia's hand as tightly enough that even the Black Paladin winced at the strength of the grip.

"Almost! Woof!" Pestonya said a little later, and then, a reedy wail filled the air.

"A girl!" Pestonya said, and laid the child to Skana's breast.

Neia hovered over her and touched the little cheek with a gentle caress. "Welcome to the world little one. I'm glad to meet you... Zyanya."

Skana smiled wearily and looked at the little bump slowly growing on Neia's belly. "I'll be happy no matter what, but you know, I hope you've got a brother for her in there."

Neia grinned, "Call it intuition... but I think I do. I'll be right back, I'll let Mu'Treiu know she's got a little sister to dote on."

_...Menowa...Two Years After the Trial..._

Nua stood before the massive crowd that took up most of the square and wrapped up another story centered sermon, and then one by one she read off the names of a list, and one by one the names she called up, walked up the center row to array themselves before her.

"These youth survived the perils of the Devor captivity, for two years they have struggled and toiled to become strong, for two years they have pushed their bodies beyond the limits of endurance, for two years they shed sweat and blood to become strong, now... they have earned the armor of Black Justice, they have earned the glories of His Majesty's Runecraft, and are the FIRST of their kind, a minotaur unit of Black Justice escorts! Now I'd like to introduce their commander..."

From the crowd, stood the largest minotaur any of them had ever seen. He walked to the fore and stood in front of the formation. "I am Mu'Ulm, former second in command of Neia Baraja, formerly of Kirakira prison, formerly of the eastern border of the Devor, and you are now the first of my free soldiers. Our task is the security of merchants, travelers, and pilgrims through all the lands of our kingdom and beyond, wherever our charges go, we go. The rules are simple, you fight hard, and if you die, you make sure the ones who killed you have nightmares about the fight for as long as they live!"

A merchant raised a hand from the crowd, "Ah, what about the Devor... I travel east and... when I go to the villages to collect harvests, the royal guards won't go with me?"

Mu'Ulm laughed, "Then we go with you, and if we encounter the Devor, then let me quote my commander when I say, 'We fucking kill them all!"

As he spoke, the weapons and armor were distributed, and quickly donned and equipped. Magicine crossbows from the Understone Empire, Runecrafted axes, shields, and armor from the Azelian mountain dwarves, they were an impressive sight, and when Mu'Ulm finished speaking, their axes began to strike their shields and take up the call.

"We can fight back! We can fight back! We can fight back!" The former peasant minotaurs shouted with martial vigor.

_...Crescent Lake...Five Years Post-Trial..._

Bertra approached the palace on the peasant day, the day when the peasant council's representatives from around the Elven province gathered together to present their problems to the nobles and the Queen herself, she entered quickly enough after flashing her pass, and made her way into the council hall.

She bowed deeply when she saw Queen Zesshi seated at the head of the table already.

"First to arrive as usual." The Queen remarked as Bertra took her seat.

"Of course, Your Majesty, it's always a pleasure." Bertra replied with a genuinely warm expression on her face.

"I thought you hadn't intended to represent the peasants of Crescent Lake this year, weren't you going off with that Soren fellow?" Zesshi asked, "You were raving about him last time we spoke."

"Oh that?" Bertra grinned, "He was OK with postponing it so I could present my new proposal."

"New proposal?" The Queen asked with interest.

"Yes, thanks to the use of undead labor on farms, we've got a bumper crop of unskilled laborers, I wanted to sponsor the building of libraries that doubled as skilled labor training facilities, the costs of operation to be offset by a tax on nonessential undead labor." Bertra suggested eagerly.

"You know..." Zesshi said as she became thoughtful, "You've really taken to your new life, to a shocking degree, I honestly never thought you would."

Bertra lowered her gaze for a moment, "It's all the life I've got, and you know, after that thing with Lovien... my community, my neighbors... they were so good, so supportive of me, wanting to ensure I was OK, looking out for my shop, being patient with my discomfort... so different from what happens, I mean happened, in the Theocracy. This is my home, and these are my people, and you are my Queen, I'm happy now, here, under you, and will spend the rest of my life this way if I can. Though I'll raise a cup and keep candles lit for Raymond & Ginedine for as long as I live."

"Not without me, you won't, next time, we drink to them together." Zesshi admonished her very lightly, and Bertra bowed her head.

"As my Queen commands it. Now about that proposal..." She said, just as the peasants of other districts began to filter in.

_...Papal estate...Nine Years Post-Trial..._

"Just like that, Gottfried!" Neia said as her son advanced with his sword against the taller Mu'Treiu.

The minotaur girl avoided deftly and tried to hip check him, only for him to roll forward instead of fall, avoid it, and hit her in the back of the leg with a practice sword, only for her to land on the knee and respond by swinging with her practice ax and strike him in the bicep.

Neia clapped her hands, drawing an end to the match. "Congratulations, you're both dead, not exactly ideal, but... better than flailing." She approached the two and embraced them tightly, "You'll do great things one day." She tussled the jet black hair of Gottfried's head and savored his toothy grin.

"The Devor won't know what hit them." Mu'Treiu said as she idly tossed her ax in hand, catching it by the handle each time without glancing at it.

She looked over to the wall where Zyanya was taking up a wooden bardiche. Her auburn hair and green eyes shone brightly as she turned to where her siblings were. "My turn, since neither of you lost, I guess I get to face you both!"

"You are your mother's child." Neia laughed.

"Damn right she is." Skana said as she came in with Enlaith behind her, bearing refreshments.

"Alright, good luck." Neia said as she stepped out of the way of the trio of young combatants.

"To who?" CZ asked.

"All of them." Neia answered seriously.

_...Menowa...Twelve Years Post-Trial..._

"So, are you going to help me, or what?" Nua asked Solution as they stood by the ornate above ground grave holding Raymond's body. The blonde elf tossed her knife up and down impatiently.

The maid demon grinned inhumanely wide. "Prove to me you're serious."

"I got all the undead farms established, I had Mu'Sula get all the bandits in the area to either turn themselves in, or kill those who didn't, I got most of the capital converted and a new priest in place, and I'm about to leave to get started. How much more serious can I get?" Nua demanded crossly as she furrowed her brow at her former teacher.

"Feed me. And I'll help you. His Majesty has already given me approval, but nothing is free and if you can't do this much, I don't believe you'll succeed." She cackled lightly.

"Feed you what?" Nua asked with blunt forcefulness in her voice and approached the maid demon.

"That." Solution said, and pointed to Nua's left hand. "Give me that, and I will guard the rest of you."

"You always have a high price for your help, don't you?" Nua asked with a deep breath.

"Yes, but I always deliver the goods." Solution pointed out with a teasing finger raised.

"Fine, take it." Nua replied and held out her hand and raised her knife to sever it.

"No... I want it fresh, still on the bone." Solution replied, and Nua relaxed her arm to let the maid demon take her forearm with surprising gentleness between her fingers.

"You can bite down on something, I'll give you that much." Solution said with the kind of magnanimity only a sadist offers.

"Gee, thanks." Nua replied sarcastically, and snatched up a stick from the ground, she shoved it into her teeth and bit down.

Nua watched as her arm was slowly brought up to Solution's chest, and her hand placed on the maid demon's breast. It was fascinating in a way, intimate, and the softness of the maid demon's skin was enticing even to her. Her eyes could not tear away from the sight of her fingers disappearing into the flesh, and then... the pain hit.

Nua's eyes flew wide open and she howled into the stick as her flesh, nerves, and bones were dissolved all the way to the wrist, her entire body shook, she dropped her knife and held onto the stone with her free hand, landing by chance on the folded hands representing the way Raymond's body rested within. It felt for a moment to her as if he was holding her through the pain, and then it was over.

She withdrew her arm as Solution's grip eased, and stared at the stump where her hand had been. Her body was still shaking with pain and with tears of agony rolling down her face when Solution smacked her lips.

"Wow, you really do taste good, I really did wonder, but... now what to do about your ruined hand..." She tapped her cheek in an exaggerated fashion as if she had no idea.

'You've got something in mind... I know you do... it hurts still... oh my god that hurts...' Nua thought, her arm shook and she couldn't look away from the cauterized stump.

"Ah, that's right! This!" Solution laughed, reached into her body, and pulled something out, she moved too quickly for the elven priestess to respond, and suddenly the pain was gone. Nua stared uncomprehendingly at what had been placed there.

"Try it out, tell me how you like your new hand?" Solution said smugly. "I knew you could do it, so I had this made for you, a present from teacher to student.

"What is it?" Nua asked as she moved her forearm around and tried to work the 'object'.

"A magicine hand out of the Understone Empire, with some collaboration from the Runesmiths. Heavily enchanted doesn't even 'begin' to describe it. Perfect for seizing power." Solution's inhuman smile didn't leave her face. "So, are 'you' ready to go?"

"Yes, the city states of the wood elves east of the Triumvirate will know His Majesty's Justice. Or my name isn't Nua Calen Aiwenor." She said with a determined voice as her heartbeat began to race. "Now are you coming with me, or not?"

"Do I get to eat?" Solution rubbed her hands together ravenously and revealed her salivating mouth.

"No. If what I gathered is true, you will get to feast." The priestess replied sweet as a demon to Solution's ears.

The **[Gate]** opened, and they never did settle on who rushed through it first.

_...Devor Capital...Nineteen Years Post Trial..._

"What do you mean... they're all dead?! My cousin led that unit!" Emperor Mocetu roared and flung his cup at the wall, shattering it against the stone of his palace court.

"Sire..." The bearman shook as he knelt in front of the lionman emperor. "Just what I said, your cousin died of his wounds after telling us what happened. They'd severed his arms and legs, and had him tell one what happened and then... well according to him." He gulped hard, and pushed forward.

"There were minotaurs in armor, led by a massive champion even larger than you, he had a white ax, a huge shield, and wore thick armor. There were only a hundred of the cattle, but they wiped out the entire force that went after the caravan, and then went after the village, and killed our harvesters."

Emperor Mocetu shot to his feet, walking on the pads of his golden feet, he paced away from his stone seat. "This isn't the first group of harvesters we've lost, though we haven't lost anything that severe in what, around twenty years? Not since my father's time."

"No, sire, we haven't. Even from the cows, the stories we got were mixed." The bearman advisor said reluctantly. "Far too absurd to be believable."

"I've ignored rumors before, but..." Emperor Mocetu stroked the fur beneath his jaw, "I remember hearing one of the stories had a minotaur champion with a white ax."

"I remember that one, sire, the story goes he was the second in command of a demon that served the undead empire to the west, the last successful harvest, some of the prisoners said that the temples that were springing up everywhere, had armor like what the survivor reports, and weapons to match, and that those came from her religious order. Also, that last harvest we lost some meat when the cows rioted, they kept shouting, 'we can fight back'. According to the statement we got from the survivor, the big one with a white ax claims he did it with only one other warrior, a human woman from the far west, who has promised that her children would kill us all."

"Well... we can't have that." Emperor Mocetu said with a snarl, "Send word to the ambassadors Mixtan and Tenochtan. And also, send a messenger to the king of the cows, tell him he must turn over all weapons and armor and disband that religious order immediately, or we will invade his Kingdom and turn it into a ranch like we did when his ancestors dared to resist in the east."

"Sire, do you really think we need the rest of the Triumvirate?" The advisor asked with his black eyes going wide.

"No, they're only cows, and what little we know of the empire beyond them, it's just an undead, and what did he conquer? Pffft, nothing, demihumans, elves, humans, and the degenerate idiots that treated cows like equals who ruined their own country before he even got there. An empire of trash... but I want horror engraved on their minds for a thousand years. We'll teach the west what terror means, and if the religious order in the west interferes, well we'll teach them the meaning of fear."

Emperor Mocetu laughed cruelly, "I'll teach them a lesson they will not forget."

The bearman advisor was about to start laughing when his mouth stopped before a sound could escape from his mouth. He glanced at the window through which light shone and cast the great shadow of their mighty emperor. 'Why do I hear the sound of laughter... out there?' He wondered, and a chill ran down his spine.

_...Papal Estate...Twenty Years Post-Trial..._

Neia sat alone in her study in the papal manor, a book in her hand and a light stone just over her shoulder, she turned the page and sighed with a roll of her terrifying eyes."

"Something wrong my love, you've been here for hours?" Skana inquired from the doorway, "Do you have any idea how long it takes to find you in a manor this size?" She put her hands on her hips and huffed in mild annoyance until Neia looked up and Skana saw her wife's expression.

"Neia... really... what's going on?" She entered and crossed the room with long and purposeful steps, her hands went out and touched Neia's right shoulder, while her left hand went to Neia's chin and tilted her head up.

"I was... well just reading, you know a lot of books have been written about us since the war ended. I was reading one... and I swear, I'd really like to meet the couple in these books. They're so confident, all knowing, I mean that Neia, and her lover, Skana, they seem like goddesses of war, and oh such a wonderful war it must have been, so glorious and..." The sarcasm dripped like syrup over pancakes from the lips of the pope.

Skana managed a little smile, "It's just what writers do with those they see as heroes, you shouldn't think too much about it."

"I wouldn't, but Mu'Treiu, Gottfried, Zyanya, have all signed on for command positions, for all our efforts to tell them how horrible war is... they want to go. I don't want them to! I don't want them to go! I can't lose them!" Neia exclaimed in a pitiful half wail. "I know this is hypocritical! We've trained them for war their whole lives, trained them to fight, lead, command, and rule... but now it comes to it... and I can't bear to risk my babies!"

"But I can't tell them no... I can't keep them back when the entire Sorcerous Empire is mobilizing." She blinked back tears, "What if they come back like me?! What if they don't come back at all?! Father would surely raise them... they're strong, loyal, good servants of the crown... but still, to know that their bodies lay lifeless somewhere, even for an hour..." Neia threw the book across the room and grabbed her wife by the wrist.

"Is there nothing we can do? I'm... fuck! I'm a prisoner in my home, of course there's nothing I can do but... isn't it possible to stop this war?"

Skana lowered herself to be on an even level with where her wife sat, she didn't even wince at a grip hard enough that she was sure it would have bent an iron bar. "We can't stop the world for our children, even if we want to."

She moved closer to her wife, close enough to kiss away her tears. "We can be brave. I know... nobody knows better than I what it is to see a loved one at risk... like when they took you from me and dragged you all the way to the Minotaur Kingdom, to see you wailing like a lost soul beneath a hood when you couldn't even cover your ears from the words of the witnesses. And it is even harder now, because these are our children. It's much easier, when it is just our own lives at stake, or when we're together."

She caressed Neia's cheek with both hands, and let her thumbs wipe away her tears.

"I want nothing more than to throw myself at my father-in-law's feet and beg... BEG... him to... spare our children... don't send them, don't risk their lives, those little lives we raised, or bore and birthed in pain, don't send them off to some far off battlefield, let them stay here, safe... with us, their parents." Skana leaned forward and kissed Neia on her forehead.

"But this is where our courage must be greatest, greater than at Hoburns, or Prart, or Kami Miyako, or Menowa... I know it is hard, even seeming impossible... but we can do it, and we'll bear the burden together." Skana whispered, and Neia reached out and pulled her down into a tight embrace.

"I don't want to lose them... not to death... and not to nightmare... what else do we have to give up...?" Neia whispered into Skana's ear.

"Control. They're making their own choices. We can't stop them, and we've prepared them as best we can... what we do is we make sure they know we're here for them when they come back, no matter what that means for who they become out there." Skana said softly, and stayed with her wife like that, until the sun rose the following morning.

Eventually, Neia woke and rang the bell for a servant, the sun was barely peeking through the windows when Enlaith arrived, and Neia ordered that their oldest children be brought.

They arrived in short order, Neia smirked a little as she sat in the chair beside her clearly still sleepy wife. Despite her age, Neia still appeared as strong and firm as they remembered in their childhoods, but as their other mother woke up, her expression became stern.

"In a few days, you're leaving on what you think is a grand adventure, something we've prepared you for, throughout your lives." Neia said sonorously, only the shaking of her hands gave away her nervousness, and that faded as Skana took them into her own.

"The truth is, we've prepared you to walk through hell itself, you've heard the glorious bardic stories and seen the plays of your parents but... those are entertainment. The truth is nightmare, nightmare that ruined who I was and made me into such a monster that I went on trial for war crimes. It's for that reason that I am seldom able to leave here. I don't want you to go, but 'if' you go, I want you to go, prepared. To understand as adults, what it did to me, to us." Neia took a cup of tea offered by Enlaith, drank it quickly, and while it was poured again, relayed the story as she remembered it. But she did not stop with the war, she went on to speak of the horror, trauma, and postwar years of which she'd never spoken to them before.

Their adult children sat across from them, eyes fixed on their mother as they tried and failed to imagine her attempting to end her own life.

"I know, hard to picture your mother that way, isn't it?" Neia's face became deeply ashamed as Skana squeezed her hand in reassurance. "Those are the parts of war and traumatic events that the bards don't speak of."

"But... you got better, right?" Mu'Treiu asked, then closed her mouth and scratched her horn as the faint memory of her human mother as 'the blood lady' ripping a skull open and severing heads, tickled her brain.

Neia shook her head slowly. "I'd like to tell you I got better, that the voice in my head that tells me I'm poison, that the voice that tells me I'll get everyone I love killed in the end, went away and never came back. I'd like to tell you I went into treatment, did everything the Sorcerer King said, and that I've been living happily ever after ever since."

Another cup of tea was handed to her and quickly finished before she continued.

"That isn't how it works though. I did everything I was supposed to, and more besides, and it is because of that, that I have you wonderful kids, this wonderful wife, and a life that to its last moment, will have been worth living. But...I still hear her sometimes. Oh, it isn't as loud or as frequent, and... I don't try to rip it out anymore. Instead I let it talk, I know what it says isn't true. If it were true, you all would not be around me now." She paused and looked around, a hint of glistening came into her eyes, and though her voice caught, it wasn't sadness, it was a kind of joy.

"Instead I sit with it, I try to understand what I'm feeling underneath those words. I know Remedios is gone and will never come back, so I know it is just me. My voice, my feelings, and I have to understand them. Loneliness? Fear? Anxiety? Am I just tired, spread thin like too little butter to spread over too many pancakes? Sometimes I think I have the answer, sometimes I don't. But I don't judge myself for feeling the things I feel anymore. Instead I cradle those thoughts and feelings like a bird fallen from its nest and calling for its mother to come and save it. And when it is quiet again, and when it has had its say, I part my hands and let it fly away again. Then I go back to my life, knowing that those who love me, those who support me, are there to lend a shoulder when I need it."

Her son was the first to speak. "But...why tell us this now?" Gottfried asked anxiously, inching closer as goosebumps rose on his skin and an intense look filled his sky blue eyes.

"Because Gottfried, you all volunteered for the Crusade, a war like there hasn't been since I stood in Kami Miyako and accepted Raymond's surrender. So you need to know what I have kept secret, so that you know what may be... and that you CAN come back from it, and your mother and I, we've had our adventures, good and bad alike. So now it's your turn, but when you all go, I wanted you to know that here we'll be, waiting for you, to help you, hold you, whatever you need. We will always love you, that's the point of all this, so that when you go out there, you know you can come back again."

**AN: Well, that's it. This concludes this God Rising story arc. I'll be wrapping up the last of the stories that are unfinished, and then I will have concluded my Overlord work.**

**Barring commissioned pieces, which include the crusade storyline putting the Sorcerous Empire against the Triumvirate. THAT however, is a STOMP fic, which may happen, if you want to know more about 'that' you'll have to visit the discord server. (invite in the author page here on FFN) The TL;DR for that is: I write a 1-3 book (100-200,000 words each) series with old and new characters detailing the conquest of the beastman empires in the center of the continent. This would be a non-Neia centered fiction, but she would have a cameo or two. Nazarick and their armies fuck everything up, is the long and the short of it. **

**Additionally, you'll note some hints about other stories. Nua's conflict in the east. The Ragnarok event, the arrival of Loki, the appearance of players that threaten the balance, and of course the Age of Exploration, and much, much more. I've left open to you, a vast sandbox of opportunities that you can do what you want with, whether it is nothing, or to expand on this yourself as YOU see fit. Whatever you choose to do, even if it is nothing, thank you for staying with me to the end.**

**Additionally, if you want to read my ORIGINAL Isekai, you can do so on Royal Road, just search for 'Scales of Trust', and if you can afford to support it, well, every patron helps.**

**Acknowledgements and final thoughts:**

**This has been wonderful, I couldn't have asked for a better fandom, you're all amazing. The beta readers and discord members especially who took the time to help me along the way, but also the reddit users who promoted the various stories of the God Rising Author Universe, the readers who commented and left feedback of all kinds, the artists who did fan art that inspired me to do new stuff, yeah, you're all fucking wonderful. I don't know if I'll return to writing Overlord after reading V14, (waiting for translation to finish) but who can say? This has been great, and I hope you all live long, rich, wonderful lives. This has been a wonderful privilege that I will never, ever forget, and I'm proud not just of my own work, but of you who created based on it, you that loved it, you that took something from it, you that made it yours in your own way. **

**So, on that note, this is ABD, signing off.**


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